The Stars at my Finger Tips
by Smartlions
Summary: Allyson Dean, formerly known as Spinner, made her choice when she left home for the streets of the Bronx. But when her younger brother goes missing, her search brings her beyond the comfort of her borough and into the unfamiliar streets of Manhattan.
1. Chapter 1

The campus was always so beautiful in the fall. This time of year, the grounds were breathtaking. The trees were all shades of reds and gold, and in the wind they danced like fire. Though she didn't fit in with the fancy academics she walked past, in their ties and clean suit jackets, Allyson found some kind of peace in the middle of it all. No one took notice of her as she made her way to their classes, the only ones who stopped her did so to buy a morning edition of the paper.

Technically, she wasn't supposed to be on the grounds of Fordham University at all, being some grubby street urchin, and she stuck out like a sore thumb with her dirtied clothes – a shirt that was at least a size too big for her she had stolen from her brother, a pair of denim overalls and worn-out boots with a hole in the toe of the left one. She had struck up a deal with one of the professors so that she would deliver his morning paper to him personally; in return, she would get paid an extra few cents. The professor was a kind man, graying at the temples and balding at the crown of his head, and he always wished her a good day after she stopped by – he didn't seem the least bit disturbed by her untidiness, or the fact that she was a girl. Even if he wasn't so kind, the extra pay was worth it, as well as having an excuse to cross the campus to reach his office.

He had been occupied that morning, talking over a stack of papers with a student, but had still motioned her in, dropping the coins into her palm before she left. Leaving the building, she inspected them before burying them in the pocket of her overalls, more so admiring their shine than checking she'd been given the right amount. It always seemed like the professor polished his cash, though she had once mentioned that to Red, who laughed at her.

"Rich people don't got dirty money," he had said, matter-of-factly. "It only gets grimy when we touch it."

Crossing the road off of the campus, Allyson headed to the divide between the University and the city beyond, a few blocks down. In general it was a good place to sell, with decent foot traffic passing through, between students and the regular folks just going about their business for the day. But despite the good number of customers, she also found herself drawn to the construction that was going on in the area. She'd learned back in late August from a chatty construction worker who had bought a newspaper from her that it was to be a zoo; now, in mid-October, it was finally starting to take shape. A gate had been erected at what was to be the entrance closest to Fordham University, the turnstiles set up, but locked tight so no trespassers could enter before the park was ready.

The zoo was bound to attract throngs of people when it opened, particularly the hoity-toity types. They were the ones who tended to pay her a little more generously, on account of her being a girl on the streets (if they weren't inclined to berate her instead). On top of the new potential customers, the zoo itself was bound to bring excitement. Allyson could practically hear the headline – " _Hungry Tiger Escapes Bronx Zoo_ ," or something of that ilk, – and could only imagine how well she would eat that night. Of course she was interested in the zoo herself, and what strange animals it would bring to New York. But it was more important for her to make her money than to explore a park.

Her stack of papers dwindled as the morning rush passed her, and with the fresh autumn air in her lungs, she felt invigorated, as though her day was bound to go well. It helped that the headline was one that would sell well – " _South African Boer Republic Declares War on Great Britain_." Nothing like a war to sell your papes for you. She barely had to try to make her sales.

She was content to enjoy her day out doors, the weather not yet having turned cold, admiring the turned leaves in the trees overhead, when down the street she spotted a familiar, lanky figure approaching. Unconcerned, she continued her work, handing out newsprint as she announced the day's news as Red made his way toward her through the crowds of the city. She startled slightly however, when his hand clamped on her shoulder tightly. "Allyson, something's up."

Brow furrowed, she turned to face him. "What is it?"

His expression was uncharacteristically concerned, mouth pinched as his nearly black eyes examined her. "It's your brother, he's looking for you."

"Teddy?" Allyson immediately straightened, ready to bolt wherever Red pointed her. "What's wrong? Where is he? Is he okay?"

Red shrugged, face relaxing slightly as he searched the inside of his vest for a cigarette, returning to his usual laid-back demeanor. "It ain't Teddy, it's the big'un." Red extended his arms to his sides, trying to convey a hulking figure with his spindly limbs. "What's his name, Matt?"

"Matthew," she corrected him. "What the hell does he want?"

"I'unno, he just told me to find you, that it was important. Seems awful pissed though." Red flicked a stray curl out of his eyes. His dark hair was always unruly, escaping the cage of his hat, perpetually irritating him. Though Doc had offered to do it for him, he refused to cut it more than once a year, despite how much it bothered him. "You oughta hurry."

Allyson gathered up the last of her morning editions, tucking them under her arm as she followed Red back to the distribution office. They moved as quickly as they could, though Allyson's thoughts weighed her down – what could Matthew possibly want from her? It was rare that either of her older siblings went out of their way to find her, especially Matthew, who mostly ignored Allyson's existence since she had run away from home. Teddy, on the other hand, would occasionally escape from school to find his older sister, wanting to spend the day with her as she sold her newspapers.

The closer they got the news square, the more stiff Red's posture got, clenching his fists and hunching his shoulders. Allyson mostly ignored him, knowing that her brother tended to have that effect on people.

They entered the square to see Dusty and Matthew engaged in a staring contest, grumbling at one another in low tones. There were a few of Dusty's friends standing around nearby, but none of them dared to get as close as Dusty was. Allyson's brother was mostly made of muscle, and sported a barrel chest. He had inherited their father's square jaw and perpetually narrowed stare, though there seemed to be more malice in Matthew's expression than usual. Despite his intimidating appearance, Allyson couldn't help but remember him as he had been as a child, pudgy from always sneaking sweets before dinner, wearing glasses that were too large for his face, struggling to keep up with his sisters as they ran through the markets to help get things for dinner. He wore the same spectacles now, though they fit him properly – though they usually made him look oddly scholarly in comparison to the rest of his appearance, with the expression he was wearing they made no difference.

Dusty, with his straw-coloured hair and short stature was rarely what anyone considered imposing, but his stormy grey eyes were another story entirely. Despite being a head shorter than Matthew, Dusty's chin jutted out stubbornly, his unnerving stare set against the older boy's own glower. Dusty looked to be particularly annoyed, meaning her brother had already started throwing insults. The two seemed to be boiling to a fight, until Allyson stepped into view and Matthew's glare swung to her.

"Allyson!" Matthew barked her name out like a command, in a voice not unlike their father's. Allyson jumped involuntarily at the sound, bumping into Red, who was standing behind her, internally cursing herself for cowering like a dog.

"What is it, Matthew?" She straightened up, pushing her braided hair behind her shoulder. She forced her voice not to tremble, not wanting to look scared of her brother. Though he'd never made any attempt to hurt her before, she knew he could do so easily if he wanted to. Dusty regarded her carefully before stepping back from her – at least someone thought she looked confident enough to stand up to her older brother.

"You know exactly why I'm here," Matthew took one menacing step forward, and immediately Red was at her side, lips clenched tight around his cigarette, smoke puffing out his nostrils. In any other situation Allyson would think he looked more comical than anything, but she appreciated his instinct to back her up. "Where is he, Allyson?"

"Where's who?" she asked, her poised tone wavering. Her heart dropped, dreading the answer before she heard it.

Matthew's glare soften slightly before returning. "Where's Teddy, huh? What did you do with him? Put him to work like you rats?"

Both Red and Dusty bristled at Matthew's insult, ready to pick a fight. Allyson felt like she was sinking into the cobblestones. "T-Teddy? He's missing?"

There was a silent moment where Matthew considered her, taking in her expression. He took a step back, but crossed his arms defensively. "You're always sneaking him out. We thought you might have had him."

Allyson shook her head, barely hearing him. Her body felt cold as she considered the thought of her younger brother out on the streets, lost. "What do you mean he's missing?" Her voice was weak and fearful, "How long has he been gone?"

"Only a little over a day, I've been looking for him since we noticed he's gone. I –"

"You what? You lost him?" Allyson found her voice again suddenly as it came roaring from her, and she stepped to come face-to-face with her brother. He flinched back, not so tough now, as she raised her hands at him. She wanted to hit him, but instead clamped them down on his bulky shoulders. " _You lost him_ , Matthew?"

"I didn't –"

"Didn't do your only job as his older brother? You failed to keep him safe? You fucking lost him, Matthew! How could you!"

"I didn't lose him! He ran away!" Matthew finally yelled back, pushing Allyson off of him. She stumbled back, nearly losing her footing before Dusty caught her by the shoulder. "He ran away like you! It's your fault, not ours. You know he looks up to you, he wants to do everything you do."

She clenched her fists, wanting to hit him again, but she knew he was right. Teddy always wanted to follow her around, always got excited about her 'adventures' on the city streets. But Matthew was still supposed to watch their brother. He was the oldest.

She didn't have a response. Matthew shook his head, his expression a strange cross between annoyance and disappointment.

"I'm done looking for him, I've done all I can. You better fix this, Allyson. You better be able to find him," Matthew demanded. Of course she would find him; he knew she was the only one who knew the streets well enough to find their brother.

She nodded weakly, but still managed to spit out "it's your fault too, Matthew."

He ignored her, storming off, giving one last meaningful look in her direction before he disappeared from view.

"Allyson," Dusty said with a soft tone that she hadn't heard him use in months, especially not to her. She noticed his fingers wrapped around her upper arm and shook him off, but he didn't step away from her. "What can we do?"

She swallowed dryly, still feeling like the world was trying to swallow her up, as though her feet were somehow too heavy to stay on the ground without sinking. She felt sick. "I have to do something."

Red nodded solemnly, gently touching her shoulder. "Of course," he paused, offering her his half-smoked cigarette, which she declined with a small shake of her head. "We'll help. We need to search for him, right? There have to be places your brother didn't look for him, yeah?"

"Yeah," Dusty paced forward, looking as grounded as ever. "We'll get some of the others to help, too. We'll cover more ground." He waved one of the boys standing off to the side over. "'Eh, Rook, c'mere."

Allyson recognized the tanned, pretty-faced boy as one of Dusty's closest confidants. He sauntered over, hands pocketed. As always, he was trailed by a younger boy as the two stopped to hear Dusty out.

"You an' Opera go find Doc – tell'er to get Pip and Canner, too. Meet back 'ere." The two boys nodded before taking off in the direction of Doc's usual selling spot at the nearest street market. Dusty turned his attention to Red. "You and Twist gotta check the asylum. Maybe he got picked up and we'll be able to spring 'im, right?"

Red nodded, dashing off, leaving Allyson with Dusty. He stared at her expectantly. "Well? Where do you think he mighta gone?"

She shrugged, unable to look into his eyes, instead focusing on the hundreds of freckles that smattered his cheek bones. He cursed under his breath. "Al, enough. You can carry on with ya' refusing to talk to me later. Right now, I'm tryna help you find your kid brother, okay?" When she didn't respond, he grumbled again. She looked up at him, seeing him looking defeated and small, something she hadn't previously though possible. Dusty had always been confident and severe, trying so hard to be his older brother. Vulnerability wasn't something he was capable of. But the voice he spoke with was sad as he said, "You're the one who hurt me, y'know. I should be the one treating you like shit."

"The zoo," she said, electing to ignore his defeated tone. She was tired of everyone trying to make her feel guilty, even if they had a point. "He knows I sell there. He probably wants to see the animals, but it's not open."

"Could he get in?"

"Sure. He's small for his age."

"Rook and I will go when he gets back, then. What does he look like?" Allyson glared at him for this. Most of her friends had met Teddy before. Dusty should know what he looked like. She got a glare in return. "I'll tell the others who don't know him so well."

Allyson crossed her arms with a sigh. "Brown hair, brown eyes. Like me. Small for a 10 year old."

"Helpful."

"Look," she snapped, "You asked me. What do you want me to do? If I knew the exact number of freckles on his face I'd tell you. But that's all I have. He looks like me. He's a little kid, alone, probably lost in the Bronx outside of his neighbourhood. He probably looks like one of us but better fed."

Dusty had stopped listening, watching as Doc turned the corner into the distribution square. She sprinted toward Allyson, clasping her hands. The tiny German girl was even more wild-looking than Allyson was used to seeing her, her usually neat blonde braids having come undone in her run over. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. My brother's missing."

Doc's green eyes widened behind her round wire-rimmed glasses, making them appear obscenely huge. "Oh no," her voice trembled, her accent slipping in as her concern deepened. "What do you need me to do?"

"I… I don't know. We have to find him, Doc."

"Natürlich! Where do you need me to look?"

"Uh, I don't know. Anywhere." Allyson's frustration with Dusty dissipated, and she began to feel hopeless again. "I don't know where he is, I have no idea where to start..."

"So we'll start from here, and move outwards." Doc patted Allyson's hand comfortingly, before turning to Dusty. "You got Pip and Canner, ja?"

He nodded, but took a step back. Like most people outside of the group that lived with her, Dusty found the spindly immigrant girl to be strange and unfriendly. "They should be 'ere soon."

"Get Pip to ask their friends around if they have heard or seen anything. He's the same age as Pip, right Allyson?"

"Around his age, yeah."

"Then maybe he's with someone they know. We'll find him, I'm sure of it."

* * *

Doc and her had taken off immediately, but hadn't turned up anything even after hours of searching. It was starting to feel truly hopeless. They scampered from block to block, ducking into alleys and hideaways as they came across them. Doc kept a positive attitude, trying her best to encourage Allyson, but as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, even she seemed to grow tired of keeping both their spirits up.

"Maybe someone else found somethin'?" She suggested weakly, dusting off the front of her plain brown skirt. Nervously she pulled at a loose thread at its hem where her blouse was tucked in, as she waited for Allyson's reply.

"Red would have found us." Allyson kicked at the ground in frustration. She wanted to sit down. She wanted to break something. She wanted to cry. "Let's go."

They walked back the way they had come in silence, Allyson stewing in her frustration. Her vision blurred as she fought against her tears; though it was just Doc, she didn't want to let herself cry. Crying wouldn't accomplish anything, it would only make things worse. Her feet were sore, she was starving, and she'd wasted her entire day to find nothing, so she was down on cash, too. They passed through the circulation square, the offices of major papers now locked up for the day, the evening edition having gone out already. She realised the sacrifice her friends had made on her behalf. Because of her, they had been out searching instead of making enough to buy dinner, all for nothing.

Turning up a familiar corner, they saw the group congregated around the steps of the boys' lodging house, everyone looking as tired and hungry as Allyson was feeling.

Dusty sat in the middle of the top step, in the way of anyone who wanted to pass. Five of his boys, including Rook and Opera from earlier flanked him, passing out cigarettes and matches. He regarded Allyson without emotion as she and Doc arrived. Everyone else's attention turned to her as well, and they all muttered their apologies.

"Sorry, Al." Red sat on the handrail with his brother, Twist, leaning over from the outside beside him. Having adopted each other as siblings, the two looked nothing alike, but especially in comparison to each other the differences were glaring. Red was not a scrawny guy for a street rat, but beside Twist, he looked like a twig. Twist was built like a boxer, barrel chested and stern looking, despite being only fourteen years old. Where Red had a mop of black curls and a pale complexion, Twist was honey blonde and tanned. Despite their obvious physical differences, Allyson had never seen born siblings as close as the two of them.

At Red's feet sat Canner and Pipsqueak, huddled close together as they divided a sandwich. It was surprisingly large, something Canner and Pip maybe could have bought together – but judging by Red's vigilant monitoring of the transaction going on between the two, it was more likely he bought it for them to share. Thoughtfully Canner extended a portion of his half to Allyson, which she accepted with a slight pang of guilt. Canner needed the food more than her, being younger by three years and sickly. He sometimes wouldn't eat for days if no one made him. Doc squeezed in to sit beside the boys on their step.

"What do I do now?" She asked quietly, looking at her feet rather than at the people sitting in front of her. Everyone was quiet for a moment, before Pip piped up.

"You have to keep lookin' for 'im, Al." Pipsqueak looked up at her, concern obvious in his expression. When he spoke, some of his letters whistled from his newly lost front tooth. "He's out there. You gotta find 'im – you can do it."

Allyson allowed herself a weak smile, which Pip returned. She ruffled his hair before taking a seat on the ground by Doc's feet. "I just don't know where to look."

"Then you just have to try and imagine where he'd go." Twist's low voice surprised her, as he spoke rarely to anyone other than Red. "He'll be found. You just need to think about where to look. It'll come to you."

Allyson stayed out on the ground thinking until the sun had set. When Red had finally got up to lead Twist, Canner, Pip, and Doc home to the cellar they lived in, beneath Red's Grandfather's workshop, she didn't follow despite his pointed look. She wanted to be alone, to rack her brain of anything that could lead her to Teddy. Matthew hadn't given her anything to go off of. Had he left a note? Had he brought anything with him? She could go home and ask him, but she balked at the idea of returning to her family's apartment at the moment. She couldn't go there, not until she had Teddy. She'd have to do it on her own.

As the moon crawled higher into the sky, most of Dusty's boys headed in for the night, until only Rook and Opera were out. Rook had pulled a tin flask from the inside of his vest, while Opera smoked, eyes turned up to the clear sky, admiring the view. The two were ignoring her for the most part, aside from the occasional glance in her direction. She could hear them making their plans for the next day behind her.

"Look, I'm not going to come back 'ere 'til I win back everythin' from Race, right?" Rook announced loudly, and Allyson could practically hear Opera roll his eyes. She turned to look at the two, which they ignored. Rook was wiping his hands viciously with a rag as he was talking. "I can't stand to owe him anythin' more, Op. It kills me, every damn time he sees me he rubs it in, like I don't know I've lost every game in the last month."

"Maybe ya' should just avoid Manhattan for the time bein'?" Opera offered, snuffing his cig out on the stone staircase. He continued on about Rook's debt maybe being forgotten if he didn't acknowledge it, to which Rook laughed. Something clicked in the back of Allyson's mind, and she shot to her feet.

"Manhattan!" Both boys jumped at her sudden exclamation. Rook's eyebrows raised to his hairline as he tried to understand the situation.

"What about it?"

"That's where he would have gone!" At the confused looks Rook and Opera exchanged, Allyson sighed in frustration. "My brother! He'll have gone to Manhattan!"

Rook frowned, trying to piece together what she was getting at, looking more interested in Allyson's outburst than she had expected. "Why on Earth would he have done that? Manhattan don't got much more to offer than the Bronx does, y'know."

"Except Jack Kelly," she said, driving her fist into her open palm. It had been months since she had even thought of the 'leader' of the Lower Manhattan boys. Rook still looked confused, but Opera's mouth rounded in realization.

"The strike, right?" He said, grinning smugly for figuring it out before his older friend.

Allyson nodded, "Yes! Exactly. Teddy believed the strike was a huge adventure he missed out on. I told him about Cowboy, and he always seemed to see him as a hero." She had admittedly been a touch jealous of this fact, that she was no longer the only person who inspired her younger brother. But now, she was silently thanking Kelly for finally giving her a lead. "I'd have to guess that he wanted to meet him. I need to leave for Manhattan right now."

"Uh-uh, that's a bad idea." Rook pushed his hair flat against his scalp, foot tapping against the step erratically. "You're Spinner, right?"

Allyson bristled at the name. "Not anymore. Just Allyson, now."

"Well, _Just Allyson_ ; do you even know Manhattan?" Rook nudged Opera with his elbow, and the younger boy nodded in agreement. "You'll get lost if you dunno which way's up. Besides," he gestured vaguely at her, "I'm sure there are some unsavoury folks who would love to pick up a pretty young lady like yourself."

She sneered at him. "I ain't some weak little thing. I've been out at night on my own, before, you know."

"Didn't say ya were weak, just sayin' it's dangerous for kids like us to wander around at night. _Especially_ if you don't know where you's goin'."

"So what do you suggest?" She crossed her arms defensively. Rook was obviously wanting something. "What do you want?"

"I'm just tryn'a help a friend, Just Allyson," Rook feigned shock, mouth dropping open in a gasp. "We'll just be headin' to Manhattan ourselves tomorrow mornin', y'know? So you may as well tag along with us – we know our way around 'Hattan almost as well as we know the Bronx."

"Like a second home," Opera added.

"And you want what in return?" She still wasn't buying their charity.

"Nothin' more than your lovely company! Though, since ya mention it," Rook smiled deviously, as though he had come upon a great revelation. "A little pay wouldn't hurt. Can't say I'm the most well-off fella that I knows of."

Allyson rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but think that if her ten year old brother could manage his way to Manhattan unassisted, she could, too – if he even was in Manhattan. Rook was still looking at her expectantly. "Fine. I'll take your guidance."

"Fantastic!" Rook clapped his hands together. In tandem, he and Opera stood from their seats. "Five cents to get ya there."

"Two."

Rook looked annoyed, but persisted. "Two cents, plus a favour, and we'll call it even?"

She didn't like the sound of that, but was more willing to part with a sliver of her dignity at a later date than any bigger chunk of her hard earned pay. "Deal."

She and Opera spat into their palms, shaking on it. Allyson extended her hand to Rook, who shoved his hands into his pockets. "I don't shake. My word is my word."

"He doesn't like dirt," Opera explained before Rook could stop him. She looked at the older boy's hands, noticing how impeccably clean they were. Her own fingers were stained black and gray near permanently, unless she scrubbed them raw. She retracted her hand, shoving it in her overall pocket, instead nodding at Rook.

Rook, pleased with the arrangement, turned to head inside the lodging house. "We'll see you bright and early, Just Allyson."


	2. Chapter 2

Allyson woke the next morning to the sound of heavy footsteps overhead. She already felt exhausted, having barely been able to sleep at night, but forced herself to stand to get ready for the day. She crinkled her nose as dust floated down from the beams above, and sat up, pulling her overalls on over her long johns, and mentally prepared for her trip. As she double-knotted the laces of her boots, she watched the others start to stir and ready for their day. Pip woke with a violent sneeze, the momentum throwing him suddenly into an upright position. From his cot across the small room, she could hear him sniffling, looking miserable with his dust allergies acting up as they did every morning.

She pulled her jacket out from under her cot, throwing it on over her shoulders. Doc, beside her was carefully braiding her nearly-white hair, looked up with a concerned expression.

"Are you heading out early?" She asked, standing and straightening her socks. Allyson had come in late the last evening, while everyone else had already been asleep. She hadn't yet told anyone of her plans to leave. She nodded in reply.

"I'm going to leave with Rook, to go to Manhattan. I think that may be where Teddy went, to find Jack Kelly."

Doc's eyebrows rose, and in the next cot over, Red leaned over to listen in. "Jack Kelly? Why would Teddy care about him?"

She felt suddenly very guilty, as she realized she had never admitted that she may be exactly the reason Teddy ran off. "I used to sneak out to my parent's house and I would tell Teddy about stuff that happened out here. I told him about the strike. He thought of Kelly as a great hero, so I figured…"

"Makes sense," Red nodded, voice stiff from sleep, "but you sure you want to go with Rook? He's a decent fella, but you don't know 'im all that well. If you want, I'll come with ya."

"No." Allyson said shortly, buttoning her jacket up to the collar. "I'm not asking anyone to come with me. I'm going with Rook because he knows where I need to go. I'm going to look for Teddy on my own. I can't ask one of you all to lose money on my account."

"You can't afford not to work either, Al. Are you sure this is a good idea?" Doc looked concerned, but continued dressing herself for the day. "You need to eat."

"I have a little put aside. I'll be okay for a few days."

Both Red and Doc frowned disbelievingly at her, but returned to preparing for work. Red cleared his throat after a moment. "Be careful then, Al. Don't starve yourself looking for him."

"I know." She pushed her hair over her shoulder, pulled her cap out from her jacket pocket, and tugged it low down on her brow. Doc suddenly hugged her.

"Come back soon, Allyson." She stepped back, and the two girls exchanged a sad smile.

"I will. As soon as I find Teddy, I'll come back." She headed for the ladder that led out of the cellar, before turning and waving good-bye to everyone. Then, she turned to address Red, and said, "I'm gonna see Molly first."

* * *

She could hear church bells ringing across the city, letting her know she still had a half hour before she was expected to meet Rook and Opera at the lodging house. The morning was still young, the ground of the cemetery dried from the change of the season as she trudged to the back corner. Street kids couldn't afford funerals, but if their friends could manage to get them into a wooden box and brought out to the grave yard, sometimes a kind-hearted grounds keeper would let them take them to an unobtrusive corner, away from all the other plots, where they could bury their dead. The headstones were shoddy and faded, small and lopsided in compare to the others across the field. Some only bore a single name, sometimes not even the deceased's Christian name. Sometimes you only knew someone by the name you gave them. For some people, their nickname was more like their birth name than the name their parents actually gave them.

Molly's headstone was a slab of rock that had been driven into the ground above where she was buried. It was large enough to read three lines; _Molly Piper – Birdie – 1883-1897_.

She had met Molly before she ever lived on the streets, while walking home from school with her older sister. Molly would stand at the edge of the walkway, usually selling bouquets of flowers or occasionally selling newspapers. She had been intrigued by Molly's red hair, a shade that had shone gold when the sun caught it – Allyson hadn't thought that street kids could have such beautiful hair. Molly was one of her first true friends, the two becoming close almost upon their first meeting. When Allyson decided to leave home, her and Molly stuck together and watched each other's backs, until they met Red and he took them both in.

Like most of the kids buried in the far corner of the cemetery, she had gotten sick and never got better.

"Hey, Mol." Allyson sat crossed legged in front of the grave. She wiped her hands on her pant legs. Despite the dry weather, her palms felt clammy. She always felt nervous when she came here. "Sorry I missed your birthday the other week. I should have brought you flowers."

She sat quietly for a moment, trying to listen for something. She had heard other people talk about how they could hear voices in the wind when they paid their respects. Allyson never heard anything.

"I have to go to Manhattan. Teddy went missing, and I have to find him." She felt tears prick her eyes, and while she was there alone, she let them spill over; though she couldn't tell what she was crying about more, her brother or her best friend. "I miss you. I wish you were still here. You'd know what to do."

Molly had always been good at planning, at figuring out the best way to solve a problem. Though most people had seen her as girlish, she had been smart, and always willing to help others. Had she been here, Allyson couldn't help but feel that she would have been halfway to finding Teddy already. Where Allyson was easily overwhelmed and frustrated, Molly always had a clear head, and everything seemed to come so easily to her.

Allyson wiped roughly at her face, trying to remove any evidence of her crying. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a wrapped lemon drop candy. Gently, she placed the sweet at the base of the headstone. "It's not flowers, but I know you loved these too."

She stood, straightening her jacket, and wiped the tears away from under her eyes one last time, taking a deep breath. "I'll see you later."

She left the graveyard, passing an older man who was making his way in, carrying a bundle of wildflowers. She made a point of looking away as they walked by each other, ducking her head down into the collar of her coat so he couldn't see how red her eyes were. Most people didn't notice her sort anyway, but she wasn't interested in this stranger seeing her look like an upset child. As a rule, she didn't cry in front of people, not wanting to look weak. If nothing else, when living on the streets, you don't want to look like you're a pushover. Especially as a girl.

She headed quickly to the lodging house, dodging pedestrians as she made her way down the streets. She could hear, over the general bustle, the calls of newsies hawking the day's headline. She passed through a market, being swept into the crowd and passed a produce stand to pocket an apple, scurrying away before anyone noticed and she got in trouble. Once clear from the market and back on the way to the lodge, she pulled the fruit out and took a bite.

A little more than halfway through her breakfast, she turned the corner and saw Rook and Opera waiting at the bottom of the stairs to the lodging house. When he saw her, Rook's eyebrows rose, and he tapped at his wrist as though at a watch.

"You're late, y'know." He frowned as she stopped in front of them, eating the last of her apple. Beside the older boy, Opera grimaced as she bit through the core, only the stem not being eaten.

"What's wrong, kid?" She asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I heard that if ya eat apple seeds, a tree'll grow inside your guts."

"That ain't true. I've eaten plenty apple seeds in my life, and haven't yet had any tree problems."

Rook laughed. "Not that ya know of."

Allyson rolled her eyes, tossing the stem into the street. "If I'm so late, why're we just standing around? Let's go."

"Ah-ah," Rook wagged his finger, "see, I called in a favour. We're not leavin' just yet. We're gettin' a ride into Manhattan. Should be here any minute."

Allyson's eyes narrowed. "From who?"

"Chipper."

She groaned, making Rook laugh again. "What's the matter? You don't like him?"

"Does anyone like Chipper?"

"I'd have to say so, as his pal Mordecai was so kind to lend him a cart on our behalf."

"Unless he cheated Mordecai out of it," she suggested, though she knew she was wrong. If nothing else, Chipper and Mordecai were thick as thieves. While Chipper himself wasn't trustworthy, Mordecai made up the better half of the relationship. "Does Dusty know you asked his brother for help?"

"Ah. No, but what Dusty doesn't know won't hurt him." Rook suddenly looked uncomfortable. Everyone knew how Dusty felt about his second-oldest brother.

"I'm sure. And at what cost did you get us this ride?"

"Nothin' that'll empty your pockets, Just Allyson. A portion of the winnin's I'm bound to gain during our stay in Manhattan, nothing more." Rook draped his arm over Opera's shoulders, pulling a cig out of his breast pocket, and lighting it with a match Opera offered. "And there's no doubt about it this time, I'm gonna win it big, ain't that right, Opera?"

Opera turning his head, rolling his eyes slightly so only Allyson could see. "'Course."

Allyson pulled a cigarette of her own out of her coat pocket before Rook could wave out the match. He smirked as she inhaled the smoke. "Didn't think ya smoked, Just Allyson."

"You thought wrong." She leaned said, feeling a little smug over Rook's bemused expression. "I'm hardly a lady, y'know."

Rook shrugged, then perked up at the sound of hooves on the otherwise empty street. The three looked down the way that Allyson had come from just moments before to see a donkey-driven cart heading toward them. The figure driving the cart was all too familiar.

Chipper bore a striking resemblance to Dusty in the straw colour of their hair and slate eyes. But while Dusty's face was fixed in a perpetually severe expression, Chipper's was always a mischievous half-grin. He wore a flat cap lopsided over his brow, a relic from the years before when he had been a newsie too, before he got too old and found his true calling; working as what Dusty called a 'professional troublemaker.' Allyson knew that he mostly did dirty work for others who were too cowardly – or high status – to do it themselves. And that he made good money for it, too.

He was one of the most obscenely tall people she had ever met, and looked ridiculous perched on the raised seat of the cart. But while he was tall, he wasn't lanky – he was actually well muscled, and unafraid of showing it off, dressing in inappropriate attire. Today, despite the autumn chill, his collared shirt was unbuttoned well below his collarbone, and sleeves rolled up to the elbows, exposing his forearms, flexing as he reigned the cart to a stop in front of the lodging house. Noticing Allyson there, his mischievous grin grew into a face-splitting smile, the sort that he probably used to get attention from ladies. Allyson, however, saw through it.

"Well, if it ain't the darling young Miss Allyson!" He doffed his hat in a comical gesture. "I wasn't told you would be joining us on our trip. You off to break some more hearts down in ol' Manhattan?"

She sneered at him. "Piss off, Chip."

"Now, that isn't any way to treat a friend who's doin' ya a great favour." Chipper laughed, hardly offended. "Speakin' of which, you all should hop up so we can get goin'. I have some important business to get to, and you," he pointed at Rook, "need to get me some money, huh?"

"'Course, Chipper," Rook clapped him on the shoulder as he pulled himself up to sit next to the young man. Opera and Allyson rounded back into the bed of the cart, settling in just as Chipper took off.

Up front, Chipper and Rook were excitedly discussing the recent events among mutual friends. It was no secret among the Bronx newsies who knew Rook that his gambling had him entangled with Chipper and his colleagues, and in debt to a few of them – but with Rook's fluctuating luck, that was hardly a surprise. Though the day before had been the first time that Allyson had ever spoken to Rook on her own, his reputation preceded him. He was better known for having a pretty face than for his prowess as a gambler.

Allyson settled back against the side of the wooden cart. The bed was fairly long, but filled with junk; there was a crate of empty wine bottles shoved in the corner behind Chipper, a ratty woven blanket tossed beside it, and, for some reason, a single muddy boot, among other things. "You ever clean back here, Chipper?"

Chipper guffawed. "That ain't mine, Al. Mordecai's the one who doesn't know how to clean his shit. I'm just borrowin' his mess for the day."

Allyson huffed, stretching her legs out. Opera across from her shuffled slightly to the side to give her more room, before returning to his curled up position, arms wrapped around his knees. He broke a tiny smile for her when their eyes met, which she returned. He immediately turned his gaze away after that though, uncomfortable, though Allyson couldn't tell if it was because of her, or because he was a young kid and didn't know how to act around girls – particularly older ones. She was hoping it was the latter, because as much as she tried to cultivate an intimidating persona, as a survival technique as well as solely because it garnered her respect she otherwise may not have gotten from the boys who dominated the newspaper business, she wasn't really keen on Opera being scared of her. From what she could tell, he was a sweet kid, if not a little shy, and she found herself liking him. He wasn't unlike Pipsqueak, though Pip's energy put him in a league of his own.

"I, uh, hope you find your brother." Opera's voice was even quieter than usual, and he kept glancing to the back of Rook's head. She realised that Opera's confidence was heavily tethered to Rook's presence, which she could understand. She had been there before, when she was much younger, and would follow her older sister around, unable to find her own confidence if she wasn't by Sylvia's side. It certainly stroked Sylvia's ego, having her sister so dependent on her, though it also annoyed her before Allyson finally learned to make her own friends that she had to endure her baby sister tagging along to everything she went to.

Allyson smiled again. "I hope so too."

* * *

Opera and Allyson waited for the rest of the ride in silence, listening in to Rook and Chipper's chatter about whatever. By the sun's position in the sky Allyson figured it was just before noon when they finally made it to downtown Manhattan. She was starting to feel antsy, and found that she couldn't stand to sit still the longer the ride went on. As soon as Chipper pulled to a stop, she vaulted over the side of the wagon.

"Whoa there, Allyson, wait for us," Rook said in a lazy tone as he hopped down from the cart.

"We're already losing time. I need to find my brother – let's go already."

Rook waved his hand dismissively, waiting for Opera to get down from the bed of the wagon. "You gotta talk to Jack first, right? And I said I'd take ya to see Jack. You get ya' lead, then you can bolt around to ya heart's content, alright?"

Allyson felt the urge to scream in frustration. He didn't understand the severity of the situation, but she needed his help still, at least to find a starting point for her search. Manhattan was big, and entirely foreign to her, but she was determined to find Teddy, with or without help. _Maybe by getting lost_ _myself_ , she thought, following behind Rook and Opera as they led the way up the street, _we'll just find each other eventually._

Chipper grasped Allyson's wrist before she got too far off, pulling her to the side. She turned to glare at him, trying to pull away. "What, Chipper?"

"Be careful out here, Al. You don't seem to know what you're walkin' into here."

"They're _newsies,_ Chipper. As in, the same kind of people I work with every day. I doubt they're much different."

Chipper shrugged. "Whatever you say, suffragette, don't say I didn't warn you. I just know that them Duane street boys ain't known ta be the equal opportunity sort you're used ta in the Bronx, hey? Don't expect their kindness."

Chipper's expression changed to something Allyson didn't recognise from him, before she realised it was concern. She scoffed, finally pulling away from him, acting as though she wasn't at least a little honoured that the older boy actually seemed to worry about her. "I can handle myself."

"'Course." Chipper let her head off, turning back to the cart, patting the donkey's flank. "But still, be careful Al. Don't break too many hearts – I'd hate to have to tell ol' Dusty you've moved on."

 _I moved on ages ago_ , she stormed off after her guides, now thoroughly annoyed with everyone, save Opera. Rook regarded her without an expression when she fell into stride with them. "What was that about? Chip givin' you a hard time?"

"Nah. Just his usual teasing," she pocketed her hands. It wasn't a lie, but she was still put off by him being at all worried for her sake. She knew that Chipper, though he wasn't a necessarily nice person, was not entirely heartless. Despite his habits and penchant for tricks, most of the newsies knew him and looked up to him as a brother, and she knew he saw himself as their older brother as well. She wasn't used to being treated like a younger sibling anymore; she was more-so used to being treated as an annoyance or as the family disappointment.

The trio walked quickly, Allyson unable to commit to memory what direction they were heading in or the names of the streets. She gritted her teeth as the two boys exchanged jokes between one another, still irritated that they weren't feeling as stressed as she was. They barely acknowledged her, except for the occasional glance to make sure she was keeping up. She wished that they would stop, or that they weren't there at all – but without them she would have been hopelessly lost already. The streets, though similar to the ones she called home in the Bronx, were more like a labyrinth than a city to her. But, as she was beginning to feel overwhelmed with the unfamiliarity of her surroundings, the sound of voices met her, anchoring her again.

The three Bronxite newsies had finally turned a corner and found themselves facing a distribution square not unlike their own. Though Allyson noted the large statue of a seated man that was the centerpiece of the courtyard, the people around it struck her as familiar, despite having never seen any of them before.

They all moved the same. Though they were all boys, as she had been warned, Allyson couldn't help but relax slightly. The boys were all pushing each other around, joking and playing cards and marble games in their little clusters. She could even pick out the hierarchy as easily as she could back home; the serious-looking older boy with the square jaw and dark curly hair obviously stood out from the rest, as the others turned to him for his opinion. The youngest boys of the group stuck close to him. He reminded her of Dusty, but there was something different about him that she couldn't put her finger on. Furthermore, she knew one thing off the bat – he wasn't Jack Kelly. He was the one face she would have recognised. She frowned. Curly would have to do.

Rook and Opera had immediately taken off, only the younger boy bothering to say a proper good bye. The cluster of boys they approached looked up from their cards and greeted the two newcomers loudly, waving them over and making room for them to join. The first one they approached was maybe eighteen, but he was also the shortest and the loudest of the group. She could overhear Rook calling him Racetrack as they greeted one another, making him the gambling friend that had supposedly cheated Rook out of his money.

Next to Racetrack was a fairly sullen-looking boy, who looked mildly irritated at the interruption to their game, but turned to talk to Opera as he sat down to his left. Behind them were two other boys around Allyson's age, both smoking and laughing as they watched the card game. One was well-built and slightly taller, with dark skin and tightly curled hair, a huge grin plastered over his face as he chattered excitedly to his blond friend, whose appearance took Allyson slightly by surprise, as she noted the eyepatch that covered the left side of his face. They both greeted Rook enthusiastically, and the one with the patch offered Rook a light, but was waved off.

Allyson made herself turn away, steeling herself for the walk across the square to talk to the serious-faced boy. She started to step away from the outskirts when someone said, "excuse me?"

She startled, immediately hunching over, raising both her hands in front of her in defense. But the source of the voice was a gawky boy, leaning heavily on a crutch, who looked as surprised as she felt.

"Sorry!" He yelped, raising his free hand in a non-threatening gesture. "I didn't mean ta' scare ya, I was just thinkin' you looked awful lost, miss, an' I was wonderin' if you needed some help, maybe?"

Allyson drew herself up again, shoving her hands in her pockets. The boy seemed nice enough, but she could tell he was nervous. When Chipper had warned her that the boys here would maybe treat her differently, this had not been what she was expecting.

The boy shot out his hand toward her, and she rocked back slightly, eyebrows shooting up. "M'name's Crutchy! Nice ta' meet ya."

"Hi," she said cautiously, and extended her hand to meet his, shaking it gingerly. "I'm Allyson. I'm, uh, looking for Jack Kelly."

The boy's cheerful expression dropped. "Oh. Yeah, sure. Well, the thing is, that, uh, Jack ain't around."

Allyson regarded him carefully, trying to figure out what he meant. He caught her look, and stuttered to correct himself. "No! Not like that, he ain't dead! He just isn't here anymore, y'know? He just disappeared – I dunno where to, I don't think any of us know, actually, – but you ought to talk to Davey. Whatever ya' needed Jack for, I'm sure Davey can help."

Crutchy gestured for her to follow him as he began to limp towards the center of the square. She felt herself shrink as eyes turned to her, watching as she passed. The feeling of familiarity was gone as she felt observed in a way she wasn't at all used to.

Molly would have thrived on the curious way that the Manhattan boys were regarding her. Allyson imagined her being there with her, red hair bobbing as she walked with purpose toward her goal. _You can't let a couple of boys get in the way, Allyson_ , she would had said, and would have pushed forward. Allyson tried for a moment to muster her friend's confidence, but it felt too fake to carry her. So, instead, she fixed a scowl on her face, and turned to face her spectators.

She found herself locking eyes with the half-blind boy she'd seen before, and he startled slightly at the unpleasant look on her face, but instead of turning away, he laughed. She could feel her face burn as she tucked her chin against her chest. She decided that the sooner she could get away from these boys, the better.


	3. Chapter 3

"Not every day we get girls around here." Davey frowned. Allyson had been right before when she had figured he was the leader; Crutchy had led her right to the curly-haired boy, who had immediately turned his full attention to the newcomer. "Well," he corrected, "I should say, not many girls who are like us."

"Have to make a living somehow." Allyson shrugged, then looked down at herself. "Newspapers suited me just fine."

It was Davey's turn to shrug, but he finally extended his ink-stained hand to her, and they shook. "My name's David Jacobs. They call me Davey." His eyes indicated that "they" were all the other boys around the square. She frowned slightly, taking that to mean that he saw himself as something different than the other newsies – not a common opinion among kinds working on the streets, who had to stick together to survive. "Where are you from, Miss –"

"Allyson Dean," she supplied. "I came from the Bronx." David stared at her inquisitively, as though trying to figure her out. His intensity unnerved her, but she tried not to show it, squaring her jaw and crossing her arms over her chest.

"She's lookin' for Jack, Davey," Crutchy piped up, averting David's focus. While Crutchy's face drooped again as he mentioned Kelly, David's face changed drastically from his previously cool expression, his eyes flickering with anger. Allyson thought he was going to snap, and she exchanged a glance with Crutchy, who looked guilty. However, they were saved from his anger, as David's expression quickly softened as he heard his name called out from nearby.

A younger boy darted up, siding close to Davey as he openly stared at Allyson. He was probably Teddy's age, she guessed, and had the same dark brown hair as the older boy. The kid also stuck out his hand for her to shake, his chin lifted high as though to appear taller. "I'm Les!"

She shook his hand too, as Davey rested a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "My kid brother," he added.

"Nice to meet you, Les." Allyson smiled at the boy, who returned it before he took off running to join a group of other boys his age. Allyson swallowed hard, mind again thinking only of Teddy, Les having been so familiar to her but so different, so not her own brother. She turned to David again, and her tone serious as she said, "I was hoping Kelly could help me. I'm looking for my younger brother, Teddy."

"How old is he?"

"Ten."

Davey glanced over at his own sibling, then back to Allyson. His expression was back to being intensely serious. Finally someone who understood the situation. "Did he run off?"

Allyson nodded. "According to our older brother. He lived at home with my parents. They thought I'd taken him. I'm looking for him now."

"So why are you in Manhattan?"

"I told him about the strike, and about Jack. He looked up to him – he would have wanted to meet him, to have his own adventure."

David sighed. "He's not the only one who looked up to Jack," his attention was again drawn to his younger brother across the square.

"What happened to him?"

The anger had returned to David's eyes, and his voice was strained as he said, "gone. Just up and left us one day. Bastard probably left the city."

Allyson had a hard time believing that. Though most of the kids she met on the streets had dreams of leaving their poverty behind in New York, there was no way they could afford it, no matter how much money they saved away, no matter how determined. It couldn't be done – at least not that she'd ever seen. But Jack Kelly was a kind of local legend. If anyone could make it, why couldn't he?

She bit her lip in thought, knees feeling weak beneath her. Without Jack, she had nothing to go on, and no one to turn to. If he wasn't here, she'd have to go back home, empty handed… She began to feel woozy, and David grabbed her shoulder to steady her as she wobbled.

"Whoa, there," he said, brows furrowed. "Careful."

She pulled away from him, forcing herself to stand straight. Crutchy hobbled over closer, concern written all across his face. She shook her head slowly.

"I… I have to find him. I have to find Jack, he'll know." She looked up, David no longer looking furious, but instead pitying as he watched her pull herself together. She refused to believe that Jack had disappeared. He may have left, but she would find him. "I know he'll be able to help me. There must be somewhere he could be, you must have some idea."

David shook his head, but she couldn't tell if it was in disbelief or a response to her question. Crutchy looked pensive for a moment, before frowning. "Sorry, miss."

Allyson took a deep breath, willing her panic to settle. She had come to Manhattan to look for her brother, and if Jack Kelly wasn't around, she was just going to have to find him herself. "Fine. I'll find him, somehow."

Even if she had to turn over every rock in the city.

Even if she didn't have the faintest idea as to where she should begin.

David was still shaking his head as he leaned back against the base of the statue. "If you do," he started, voice steady but filled with mirth, "tell him he can go to hell."

Without another word, she wandered off to the far side of the square. Behind her, she heard Crutchy weakly call out to her, but she ignored him, focused on trying desperately to develop a strategy for covering the foreign city that lay before her. She wanted to kick herself for her sudden burst determination, which already was quickly dwindling. It would be like looking for a needle in an incredibly large hay stack – she barely even knew what Jack Kelly looked like, let alone where he could possibly be. And if his friends didn't know where he was, how was she supposed to figure it out?

She snorted a bitter laugh to herself as she stomped down a street chosen at random, praying that something would lead her the right way.

Her only plan was to get lost, and maybe then she would find Teddy, and they could both be lost together in a city neither of them knew.

She barely registered the sound of footsteps running up the street after her, and barely heard the calls of "hey, Miss," until a hand had wrapped around her wrist. She nearly jumped out of her skin, and she couldn't quite repress a squeak of terror. The hand immediately dropped, its owner saying, "Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean t'startle ya."

She whirled around, already glaring, to find it was the boy with the eyepatch from before, looking at her apologetically. Further back down the road, his friend with the darker complexion waited, a look of mild amusement crossing his face as he watched. She managed to hold back her groan of annoyance. "What do you want?"

"Well," the boy suddenly turned sheepish, scuffing his foot against the road. He fidgeted with his vest, sticking his thumbs into his pockets. He was a few inches taller than her, and was stood a little too close to her for her comfort, as she had to crane her neck slightly to look at his face. She decided he wasn't bad looking, even with the eyepatch, but she was still annoyed with him for having laughed at her before. And, was even more annoyed at him now for following her.

"I, uh," he gestured back to his friend weakly, throat bobbing nervously above the blue neckerchief he wore, "we couldn't help but notice that you's looked an awful lot like someone who's lost."

"And? What's it to you if I am?"

"You ain't from around here, right? Well, whatever trouble you's in won't be helped by you getting' yourself lost." Eyepatch leaned in slightly, a conspiratorial look crossing his face. Any hint of discomfort had disappeared, replaced with gravity she hadn't expected. "I overheard that you're lookin' for Jack. I can maybe help."

She frowned. "Maybe?"

"I know the guy pretty well. This ain't the first time he's ever taken off." She started to turn away, not wanting to be dragged into listening some sob story, but he caught her shoulder. "Wait, please, let me help ya."

"As much as your offer to 'maybe' help warms my heart, I'm strapped for time. I am not just looking for your friend, I'm looking for my kid brother. Either I find Kelly, or I find my brother, but neither of those things are happening while we're just standing here." She shook her head, getting antsy. "I've got to go. It was nice meeting you Eyepatch."

He laughed at the name, though she couldn't tell if it was genuine or not.

"Look, I can't let a pretty girl like you take off on her own into a city she doesn't know – I couldn't live with that hangin' over my conscience," he stuck out his hand. "Name's Kid Blink."

She felt her face turn red at him calling her pretty. She hadn't heard that in at least a year – her entire body halted, not sure what to do with itself, as he looked at her, his hand drooping as his expression grew confused. Self-conscious, she tucked her chin down to her chest and turned on her heel, blurting out, "I don't need your help!"

She took off down the road, ignoring the laughter behind her, followed by Blink's voice growling, "It's not funny, Mush!" then by someone running towards her.

"Wait!" Kid Blink caught up to her, "c'mon, I didn't mean no offence! What's your name?"

She stopped to look back at him over her shoulder. She could still hear the other boy laughing down the street. "Allyson," she mumbled, but then continued walking. "Stop following me."

Kid Blink followed, his longer legs allowing him to meet her stride immediately. "Hey, wait! Why are you mad? All I did was call you pretty. I said I was sorry!"

"Yeah, well, don't call me that." Allyson didn't break stride until he stepped in front of her, looking surprisingly miserable. She was truly getting annoyed with him now. "Move, I have to go."

"Let me help you. I know where Jack might be – better than you have any idea." Blink grinned weakly.

"Why do you want to help me so badly?"

"I already told you, I couldn't let you wander off on your own." He shrugged, relaxing as he realised she wasn't going to bolt away from him. "Can't a guy just wanna be a good person?"

"You're more of a pain in the ass than anything, I can already tell."

He grinned widely at her, mischief glinting in his one blue eye. "Yeah, well, that ain't the first time a girl's told me that."

She rolled her eyes, groaning at his cheeky smirk. "Lead the way, then, Eyepatch."

It took him a second to realise she had accepted his help, and he immediately jumped into action, turning to head down the road. Immediately, he started chattering, which she was annoyed at, as she felt like she had heard enough out of the boy to last her a lifetime, but decided she was mostly thankful for, as he didn't seem to expect her to talk as well.

"The first place I was thinkin' of was Medda's. It's a theatre – your pal Opera goes there a lot, actually, has he told you about it? No, okay, well, Medda owns the joint, and she's close to Jack, like family to him. She's a nice lady, I'm sure she'll help us if she can. Even if he ain't there, she could maybe give us an idea of where to go next. Like I said, this ain't the first time Jack's run off. I thought at first maybe he an' Sarah had run off together, but Davey would have had a heart attack if that'ad happened."

"What?"

"Well, Jack's girl is Davey's sister, Sarah. And since he took off, he didn't tell no one where he was going, not even her – broke her heart. He's been gone for a few weeks now. So Davey's about as happy as you'd expect. Especially since he'd figured the two of them were close." Blink shrugged. "They were, Davey and Jack were fast friends, especially close after the strike. But Davey's not from _here,_ you know? He went to school, lived with 'normal' kids; he doesn't get that this sort of thing happens, took it real personal.

"So Jack takes off, like he does some times. He's got a bit of, ah, whaddya call it, wanderlust? That. So, really he could be anywhere. But even with his big dreams of gettin' out of here, he's stuck around. I think he's regretted it after the strike, as he was given the opportunity to take off and never see New York again. But he stayed for us." Blink shrugged again, slowing down to search his vest for a cigarette and a match. "So I bet he's taken off to be miserable about himself somewhere."

"I thought he was the leader of all of you here?"

"Sure. I mean, Jack was respected and we all looked up to him. He was a leader through the strike, of course, but mostly he was our friend. He had been with us all for a long while, he wasn't always the one everyone looked to. There were other boys before him. There'll be other ones after. I've been around long enough to see a few of them. Davey doesn't get that either, he's too used to a stable life with rules. That's just not Jack's way, y'know." He waved the thought away dismissively, his lit cigarette trailing smoke.

"Yeah. Davey's still got the mindset of the kid from school, and eventually he'll get back to it. He'll get an education, do something big with his smarts. Everythin's set out for him. That's not the case for us." He peered at her curiously from the corner of his eye. "But what about you?"

"Huh?"

"I can tell ya try not to, but ya sound a little too smart, yourself. Where ya from, Allyson?"

She shook her head. "S'not important."

"Uh-huh. If you say so." He took a drag on his cig.

She grunted, debating in her head for a moment before deciding it wouldn't hurt to tell him a little. "I left home 5 years ago, to live with my friend on the streets. Stopped going to school, stopped being 'proper' like my parents wanted. My older brother and sister thought that I was insane for leaving – and now they all hate me, except for my little brother. Teddy would ask me to tell him stories. Now he's run away, and it's my fault. But that's the long and short of it."

"Who was your friend? Rook?" She shook her head 'no', but didn't continue. "What happened to them?"

She ignored him, changing the subject. "Do you think Jack can help me find my brother?"

"If you think that he's gone to see Jack, than that's probably where he's gone," Blink replied. "He's your brother, you would know."

"I'm worried I might not."

"Well, you can at least try. And then try again. There are other people in New York who could help."

"Like who? The bulls?"

Blink laughed dryly, but didn't respond, instead gesturing to a building across the street, an old brick theatre with a huge painted marquee. The red-headed woman illustrated on it was advertised to be the home of _Medda, the Swedish Meadowlark_. He flicked the end of his cigarette onto the street. "This is the place. C'mon."

She followed him as he easily crossed the road toward the building, leading her not to the front where the ticket box was, but instead to an unobtrusive door to the side of the theatre. The knob easily turned, unlocked, and he ushered her in.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior of the building. She tucked her hat into her jacket pocket as she waited for her vision to return. The area they had come into looked to be a backstage storage space, with piles of coiled rope and a number of props and racks of costumes. Against the wall the door was on was a wooden staircase, and from the top Allyson could hear music from somewhere deeper in the building. She turned to Blink, mouth open to ask him where everyone was, when he raised a finger to his lips and shushed her.

"They're in the middle of a show," he whispered. "I'll go find someone, they know me – you gotta stay here though, okay? I don't get into trouble."

She was about to protest, but he had already taken off up the steps, moving quickly but quietly into the theatre. She was tempted to follow him for a moment, almost certain he was going to leave her behind or forget about her, but instead sat down against the wall at the foot of the stairs. She decided if he wasn't back in five minutes, she would leave without him.

She took to picking mud from the soles of her boots while she waited, the dirt getting stuck under her nails. She heard footsteps overhead and held her breath, waiting to see who it was. Though it hadn't been long, she wondered if Kid Blink had been kicked out. She for a second wanted to go and find him, but just as she was getting to her feet, there were more footsteps, approaching the stairs.

Blink leapt down the steps as Allyson quickly moved out of the way. He stumbled slightly, trying not to fall on her, and she grabbed his shoulder to try and steady him, though not without a gruff "watch it!" He smiled apologetically, then turned his attention to the person who had followed him down.

The woman was identical to her portrait on the front of the building, though she wore an opulent emerald dress instead of the pink one she had been depicted in. Her face was made up beautifully, but her genuine concern was still apparent underneath her heavy eye shadow and rouge. Blink turned to look between them, facing the woman first.

"Medda, this is my friend, Allyson," he raised his hand to present Allyson to the performer. He ignored the pointed glare she gave him when he called her his friend, instead continuing, "Allyson, I'm sure ya realised who this is."

Allyson turned to Medda, who dipped slightly in greeting. She wasn't sure what to do in response, so chose to attempt a curtsy as well. "Nice to meet you."

"Of course, my dear," Medda said, "but what can I do to help you?"

"I'm looking for Jack." Allyson pointed to Blink, "he told me that you maybe could help."

Medda's face blanched behind her already pale makeup, and she glanced back to Blink. "Is that why Jack hasn't visited? He's been missing? How long?"

"He's been gone for almost two weeks now. None of us have any idea where he's gone." Blink's demeanor turned somber. "I was thinking that if he had told anyone other than one of us, it woulda been you, Medda."

Medda shook her head sadly, red curls bobbing. "I'm sorry, but I haven't the faintest idea. I didn't even know he was gone, I just thought that he had been too busy to stop by. I'm sorry."

The lightheaded feeling returned for a moment as Allyson forced herself to look at her feet. "I'm sorry we troubled you. I'll try and find him."

Tears pricked at her eyes for the second time that day as she pushed past Blink to the door, then back into the bright daylight of the streets. Her chest felt tight as she struggled to breathe, willing herself to focus on anything but the sensation of utter helplessness that was devouring her. She blinked her eyes hard, trying to force away the tears threatening to spill as she started to wander off. Hot on her heels, Blink ducked out of the theatre, and was by her side.

"Are ya okay, Allyson?" She shook her head no, and his lips tightened into a thin line. "Medda's was only one'a the places I thought Jack coulda gone. Don't worry, we'll find him."

They stood in silence at the side of the walk, tucked against the wall of Medda's theatre. Blink pulled out another cigarette from his vest. Allyson pulled one of her own from the pocket of her overalls, and let him light it for her. He pulled his worn cap from his head, and ran a hand through his hair as he stared into the street, thinking. The early afternoon had brought throngs of people out onto the streets, bustling about their business and enjoying the warm autumn weather. Allyson watched as men and women passed, completely unaware of the two newsies standing in the shade, in their own worlds of working and leading normal lives. Allyson huffed out a cloud of smoke as she noted all the women wearing their drably-coloured dresses, dragging round faced children along behind them on their way to run errands, reminding her of her own childhood, tagging behind her mother to the market.

She jumped as Blink clapped his hand loudly against his leg, a look of enlightenment crossing his features. "I know who knows!"

"You what?"

"I know who'd know about Jack! I know who he'd tell," he jumped away from where he'd been leaning, waiting for her to follow. "I can't believe I didn't think of it before – C'mon, Allyson!"

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the square." He grinned, ready to take off. "You any good at cards?"


	4. Chapter 4

Allyson was not good at cards – she had never even tried to play a game; she was more a fan of playing chicken, driven to best her (usually) male opponents, in a way to prove her worth. The number of tiny circular burn scars along the inside of her forearm were evidence of her victories, where she had been able to hold a lit cigarette to her skin the longest. Though that was usually seen as a formidable talent, she was fairly certain her tolerance for pain wouldn't do her much good in a gamble.

Kid Blink led her back to the statue, where things seemed unchanged despite the hour they had been gone. Seeing them return, Mush quickly met Blink's pace, asking him what they were doing. Allyson hung back slightly, looking around for Rook and Opera, before noticing they were still with the group they had joined up with upon arrival earlier. Remembering the ragged deck of cards they had been using, Allyson immediately had a bad feeling about Blink's plan.

She jogged up, catching his sleeve with a tug. He turned to face her, eyebrows raised in question as he stopped. "What are you doing?" She demanded.

"We're just goin' to play some cards."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"

"Because you gotta find out where Jack is, right?" Blink grinned then pointed to the short boy Allyson had heard called Racetrack earlier. "He'll know."

Mush looked surprised at this. "How'd you know that, Blink?"

"I just do! You gotta trust me."

While Mush nodded loyally, she shot Blink a glare. "I definitely do not trust you."

He returned her scowl with what she had to admit was a charming smile – "Well, you should work on that, then."

Allyson sighed. "I can't play cards, anyway. I've never tried."

Unfazed, Blink smiled. "Then now's as good a time as any to learn!"

Annoyed, she reluctantly continued to follow Blink's. She was already finding him exhausting, and wished he would just tell her what he was plotting. He didn't seem to realise that charging into things without a plan usually didn't work – or at least, not if only one of them even knew what they were doing. She wondered if he was always like this – judging by Mush's unconcerned expression as he followed his friend into the thick of things, it probably was.

In what seemed like a rash move by Allyson's judgement, Blink casually walked up behind Racetrack, reaching for his shoulder and hoisting the shorter boy to his feet. Immediately, Racetrack whirled around, cards in hand, and started hollering.

"What's the big idea, Blink?!" He chomped down on the cigar he had hanging between his teeth, his shouts backed up by protests from the boys who had been in the middle of the game.

"Cripes, Allyson," Rook groaned from the other side of the circle. "Did you employ these brutes to do your dirty work? We're in the middle of a game, here!"

Allyson rolled her eyes at him. "I didn't know he was going to do this."

"I just gotta know, Race," Blink said lazily, ignoring the others, "where's Jack?"

"I already told Davey – I dunno! Now shove off," Racetrack pushed Blink's shoulder, "I got a game to win."

"Uh-huh, except that you an' I both know you's lying."

Racetrack glared, stepping away from the game, tossing his cards down. "So what if I am? It ain't ya business."

Blink shook his head. "It ain't mine. But it is hers," he pointed to Allyson, who stumbled backwards as the full force of Racetrack's irritation was turned to her, his hands balled into fists.

He regarded her with mild interest, violently jabbing his cigar at her when he took it from his mouth. "Yeah? And how's that?"

She could feel yourself shrinking, feeling as though Racetrack was towering over her as he waited for her answer. Nervously, she said, "he knows where my little brother is. Maybe."

"Maybe?" Racetrack smirked. Beside him, Blink made a frustrated noise. "Well, unfortunately, Miss, _maybe_ ain't worth spillin' the secrets of a good friend."

"What?" Allyson snapped. She half raised a hand as if to slap him, but thought better of it. "You're joking."

Racetrack feigned shock, delicately raising a hand to his chest. "Me? Joking? Never." He squared his shoulders. "Look, you want to know where dear ol' Jack is? You gotta win it."

She was confused for a moment, then realised what he meant. She sent a particularly venomous look in Blink's direction. "I don't know how."

"Well, if you want to know, you better figure out how."

Racetrack returned to his game, though Allyson could hear him fielding his friends' questions about Jack. Roughly, Blink pulled her to the side, out of earshot of the other boys, Mush joining them.

"What the hell was that? Ya weren't supposed to say 'maybe!'"

"How was I supposed to know?" Allyson snapped, annoyed he was trying to put this on her. "Not like you gave me a script beforehand."

"I was hopin' that if ya told him with a scrap'a confidence he'd just let ya know!" He took a step toward her, towering as he glared down at her.

She stepped forward as well, not letting him intimidate her, and raised her hands up, though she wasn't sure what she was going to do with them. Maybe try to strangle him. "Don't blame your hard-headedness on me! It's not my fault I couldn't follow your stupid plan when you didn't tell me."

Mush put a hand on both of their shoulders, trying to keep them from throwing any punches. "Hey, look, all you gotta do is win the game! Can't be that hard right?"

"I already said I don't know how, though!"

Mush shrugged easily. "Then we'll help ya."

"What! No way," Blink looked aghast at the suggestion. Allyson tried to shush him as his voice rose, though he paid her no heed. "I ain't gettin' caught helping her cheat against _Race_. He'll have a fit. He'll _kill_ us."

" _If_ he finds out."

"No way, Mush!"

"I'll help, then." All three jumped out of their conference, just then noticing that Opera had joined the group while they hadn't been paying attention. "I won't get caught."

"How do you know you won't?" Allyson asked.

Opera glanced over to the game unfolding to the side. "I've done it before. Rook's a dead awful player, y'know."

The three older conspirators exchanged silent looks, before Blink conceded, saying "it could work. If ya got lucky."

"It will," Opera corrected him, "I don't need luck."

"But I ain't goin' anywhere near this, in case things go belly up." He crossed his arms over his chest pointedly. "I don't want to piss Race off any more than I've already done."

Mush shrugged, and Allyson turned to the younger boy, regarding him seriously. "Fine, Blink, suit yourself. What's the plan, Opera?"

* * *

Allyson walked back over to the group, Mush, Blink, and Opera trailing behind her. With a resigned sigh, she glanced over the group, assessing her to-be opponents. They all stared at her, waiting to hear her speak. Racetrack looked up at her, looking bored.

"Ya playin' or not?"

"Yeah. Deal me in."

Quietly she took her place in the ring of players. The boy beside Racetrack, with the sullen face, started to explain the rules of the game. Though she could barely keep up, he started to list the values of the different cards, and the way to win, but was told by the rest of the group to can it so they could start.

"She'll figure it out, Skittery," one of the boys said, "Don't be soft."

Each of the players tossed in a handful of coins, and Allyson pulled one of the few she had saved from the day before and threw it into the growing pile as well, thinking ruefully of its waste.

"You got more than that?" Skittery asked her. She nodded, but groaned internally, realising her entire savings that she brought with her was going to go into Blink's stupid plan.

She glanced up from where she sat to meet Opera's eyes. He was standing close behind Rook, spectating. She knew somewhere near behind her was Mush, across the gathering from Opera, as they had planned. Blink stood out of the way by Opera, looking stressed out. Most of the boys in the game were crouching or sitting, holding their cards close to their chests as they waited for the hands to be dealt in full. Allyson received hers, and looking down at them saw a few faces and symbols she didn't remotely understand. She looked back at Opera, who gave her the barest of nods.

The boys started to lay their cards down, some boasting that their hands were particularly good, others swapping out a few of theirs; each time she would watch to see Opera's reaction, and each time he would either nod or shake his head. The boys he had shook his head at had chosen to fold their hands, tossing them into a pile next to the pot and looking perturbed as they sat out. Everyone watched as she laid all her cards on the ground and nodded silently, as Opera indicated to, and allowed the round to continue. A few of the boys snickered, knowing that she truly had no idea what was going on.

She followed Opera's directions as he told her what to do, or copied what the others were doing. More coins were tossed into the center, and as the game continued on she still watched Opera. Each tilt of his head was so subtle that anyone else looking on would have thought he was just watching the game intently. Behind him, Blink kept catching her eye, looking about ready to tear his hair out – though she couldn't decide if it was due to nerves, or regretting putting her in the middle of a game he was now realising she was surely going to lose. He had been blunt about not wanting to be involved, so she was surprised to see that he had stuck so close by, especially looking so uneasy. If anyone was going to give them away, it would be him.

Eventually, the group began to thin as more of the boys started to drop out, the intensity of the remaining players becoming palpable around the gathering. Rook cursed loudly as he left the game, throwing his folded hand to the ground before stepping away. She watched, and as the game progressed she waited for Opera to tell her to dip out as well, but he never did.

As the game progressed, she continued to follow Opera's direction, swapping out cards in her hand for others when he told her to through the tiniest twitches of his fingers, adding another coin to the pot in the center of the circle. The deeper into the game she got though, the more confused she felt. Racetrack laughed dryly to her left.

"Well, I gotta say, it's awful difficult to tell when you's bluffing; ya clueless expression certainly gives nothin' away."

She didn't reply, pursing her lips. Racetrack snorted, attention returning to the game.

It came down to the two of them as the last in the game, and they both revealed their cards; hers made up of a number of faces and numbers, but all with the same symbol, while his was more of a mess she couldn't see a pattern in. Racetrack's determined expression dropped, cigar dangling limply from his mouth as he realised he had lost, somehow.

Across the way Kid Blink loudly yelped. "Holy shit."

"How did you do that?" Racetrack demanded, but all she could do was shrug. She was feeling as surprised as he looked.

"Is this good?" She asked honestly, though she could tell plainly from his face she had won, and by a larger margin than expected. The boy named Skittery laughed wryly at his friend's defeat.

"No way! Beginner's luck! You can't have done that!"

"Why not Race?" Skittery said evenly. "Don't be a sore loser. She won. Now you owe her."

Racetrack growled, and Allyson glanced nervously to Opera, who looked imperceptibly satisfied with Racetrack's reaction. Blink was still looking amazed beside him, and Mush had come around to join, looking like he was enjoying Racetrack's defeat a little too much. "Take the damn money, I don't owe nothin' to beginner's luck."

"I don't want the money," she said, though it wasn't entirely true. The pile of winnings could buy her a good dinner every day for the rest of the week, maybe even longer. It was hard not to sweep it up, but she remained unwavering, knowing she needed the information more than the money.

Racetrack's face reddened in irritation, but Skittery rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Just tell her where Jack is, already."

Racetrack stood, dusting himself off, and looking like a cat who had be thrown into a filled tub. "Fine. But you won't know where it is."

"Just tell me, Racetrack. Please."

"He's at _Sunny's_ , hiding out," a few of the boys who were listening in looked mildly surprised. "Wasn't lookin' too hot last I saw him, neither. But he should still be there."

Allyson frowned, glancing to Blink and Mush. "What's _Sunny's_?"

"Just ya average den of sin." Racetrack shrugged, still looking pissed. "Ya happy now, though? Ya gonna leave me be?"

Allyson quickly mumbled her thanks before retreating back to the edge of the square. She couldn't help but wonder what business Jack had at a whore house, but if she let herself, it wasn't too hard to imagine – though she did not really want to dwell on it, and shook any half-formed images out of her head. Opera, Blink, and Mush caught up to her, Opera wearing the tiniest smile. Despite her hesitation about where this new information was going to bring her, she could feel herself growing giddy at finally having a lead, and couldn't help but receive her friends with her barely-capped excitement.

"Told you it would work." Opera had that mildly smug look on his face again, cocking his head as he faced the other three.

Allyson smiled at him. "You're a genius, Opera! Though I have no idea how you managed it."

"I'm better at cards than I look," he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking bashful.

"Remind me never to play against you or Rook again, huh?" Blink said plainly, having returned to his usual tone.

"Though, speaking of Rook, I have no idea how he's been losing so badly lately if you're behind him like that," she shot the youngest boy an inquisitive look, and he looked away shyly, and gave a weak half-shrug.

"Can't let him get an ego. Or, at least, a bigger one." He smiled more openly, though didn't meet anyone's eyes as he did. "Thanks for lettin' me help out."

"No, thank _you_ for your help, Opera," Allyson took his hand, and he blushed. "I owe you now."

Opera nodded, and scurried away without saying anything, still flustered. As he headed off, Blink and Mush laughed.

"Poor kid," Mush said, shaking his head as he chuckled, "ya didn't need to mess him up like that, Allyson."

"I didn't mess him up! It's not my fault he's shy."

Blink snorted a laugh. "Not his fault you're probably the first girl ta ever hold his hand."

Allyson glared at him. "Don't we have more important things to discuss? Like _Sunny's_?" Both boys groaned at the mention of Jack's supposed location.

"What?"

" _Sunny's_ ain't the best place, but it ain't the worst, either." Mush traced an ink-stained thumb along his jaw. "The girls there are gorgeous, and they let ya buy drinks so long as ya got the money. No surprise our boy Jack's there."

"But the madam is as mean as a witch," Blink added, crossing his arms. Mush nodded his agreement. "She'll give us trouble if we try ta get in without givin' her any business. Especially since you's a girl."

Allyson frowned. "So? We have to go get Jack. I can finally find out where my brother is!"

Mush and Blink exchanged a look.

"Alright," Blink said. "We'll head off in a minute. But Mush can't come along. He got in trouble last time for drinkin' too much."

"All I did was flirt with a few'a the girls! As though that's not what you're supposed to do." Mush tried his best to look guilty, but failed. Allyson groaned.

"Let's go then, Blink," she said, already feeling impatient.

"Fine, but promise you won't freak out," he gave her a serious look. "It ain't the place for a lady, but you can't get weird, or we won't be able to see Jack."

She glared. Though the thought of walking into a brothel did make her uncomfortable, Blink's accusation made her determined not to show it. "Of course I won't be _weird_. What do I look like?"

* * *

 _Sunny's_ was nondescript, though the area it was in was hardly the best the city had to offer. It was on the outside limits of Chinatown, where it started to blend with the westernized parts of the city. There was nothing in particular about the building that indicated the goings-on inside – though Allyson supposed that maybe that was exactly what made it notable. For some reason, she found herself feeling nervous as she stared at it from across the street, and looked over at Blink, who didn't look any happier. Nervously, he was drumming his fingers against his thighs.

"What is it?" She asked, "You've had a bad experience here, too?"

"Nah," he set to occupying his hands, straightening the neckerchief he wore tied around his throat. "Just ain't really my type of place." She gave him a doubtful look, which he laughed at. "What? I consider m'self a romantic."

"Oh, I'm sure," she said, but returned his smile. He clapped her on the shoulder, hard enough she was nearly pushed over.

"Let's head in then?"

She replied with only a nod.

The two cautiously made their way across to the brothel, both shooting nervous glances up and down the street. The last thing they needed was to get in trouble, especially when Allyson was certain she was moments away from being reunited with Teddy. No one on the street took note of them, and there were no officers in the area from what they could see, so the proceeded, climbing the steps to the front door and letting themselves in.

Allyson was caught by surprise as they were greeted by a thick fog of sweetly-scented smoke. Coughing, she turned to look at Blink, who was also having difficulty breathing. "Opium?" She hissed. Despite technically being in Chinatown, she hadn't expected this.

He shrugged. "Wasn't like this last time. Must be new, though I ain't surprised. Breathe shallowly, right?"

She did as he said, though she wasn't sure if it made any difference.

The foyer they had walked into was small, barely lit by a yellow glass lamp hanging from the ceiling, and was empty of people other than Blink and Allyson, though there was a quiet hum of activity coming from deeper in the building. The entrance was half taken up by a staircase that led up to what Allyson could only imagine, while the other half was an open doorway that Blink was motioning for her to follow him through. She did, and found the space beyond to be even darker, and what could be seen was blurred by smoke. Looking around she could make out figures moving across the open room through the haze, as well as a number of lounges and settees scattered across the floor, most with occupants slouched in them. She bumped into a person who she hadn't noticed standing in front of her and jumped back, grabbing Blink's sleeve.

The woman she had run into peered down at her and Blink. She was tall, and dressed in silks, and she had a pretty face with delicate Asian features, though her attractiveness was marred by a terrifying glare that Allyson was sure could make plants wither and die.

"Newsie," she addressed Blink, voice thick with her accent. "What is your business here?"

Blink dipped his head, though Allyson couldn't tell if it was a bow or to avoid the woman's scowl. When he looked back up, a charming smile was fixed onto his face. "Ms. Sunny! Just the woman I was hoping to see."

Sunny did not respond with more than a quirked eyebrow, her stare unwavering.

"My friend and I here were hoping that we could come in."

She pointed to Allyson, though still addressed Blink as she said, "you pay to bring her up."

"No! Not like that," he raised his hands, and Allyson was glad for the dimness of the room so no one could make out the blush she could feel creeping up from her neck. Glancing at Blink, she could have sworn she saw his ears turn pink, though the light made it hard to tell. "We're looking for another one of our friends. I'm sure you know who – Jack Kelly?"

Sunny pointed to the back of the room, where Allyson couldn't see clearly through the fog. "There. But the girl stays here."

Allyson looked at Blink, suddenly terrified. She would not let him leave her under this woman's scrutiny, and was already planning to pitch a fit if he did decide to continue on without her. Instead he grabbed her wrist and pulled her past the madam, saying, "c'mon now, Sunny, we'll only be a minute."

Sunny did not come after them as they ducked away, but Blink didn't let go of Allyson as they crossed the room, and she didn't try to pull away from him. They didn't say anything as they passed by the patrons of the den, chattering loudly as they drank and smoked, sprawled over ottomans and chaise lounges. Wandering around the room between the customers, Allyson saw a number of beautiful women in various outfits she could not imagine being caught dead in, serving the guests their drinks or filling their pipes. Some of the women were flirting openly with the customers, their exposed chests bared as they tried to solicit further business. Allyson averted her eyes, feeling that she was seeing something she wasn't supposed to, and kept her focus on the middle of Blink's back as he led her through the building.

When he finally released her from his grip, they had come to a stop from a circular arrangement of plush chairs. Seated in the one closest to them was a man, with his back turned to them, only the top of his head visible over the back of the chair. He was alone, no one else this deep in the building at the given moment.

Blink leaned closer to whisper to her, though she could barely hear him. "That's Jack."


	5. Chapter 5

She could just barely recall what he had looked like during the strike. She had seen him only once during it, up on stage at a theatre she now realised must have been Medda's. He had been making brave proclamations, standing alongside two others, the crowded theatre calling out their enthusiasm.

She had only just been paying attention, to both the words and face from the leader of the rally; all she had wanted was to go home. The green dress she was wearing was too loose around her waist, and the tartan collar scratched at her throat. She hadn't worn it since before Molly had died, and it felt wrong. Wordlessly, she slipped away from Dusty's side, and had convinced Doc and Twist to leave with her – though Doc was disappointed, Twist had seemed relieved to leave as well. Hours later, Red had found them back home in the cellar, looking roughed up and like he had run all the way back to the Bronx, and he yelled at them for taking off without telling him – the show had been cut short by the bulls, and a lot of kids had been arrested.

From what she remembered of him that evening, Jack had looked proud, unshakeable, like an honest-to-god force of nature. The young man she saw sitting in the chair was anything but.

He didn't bother looking up as she and Blink came around to face him. To his chest he cradled a tiny glass of amber liquid, which held his rapt attention. Everything about him looked washed out. His clothes were rumpled, his hair looking like it was in desperate need of a wash, and across his jaw coarse stubble grew, curling near the length of a beard. His dark eyes were watery, face pink with drunkenness. Beside Allyson, Kid Blink groaned.

She glanced back at him, seeing him looking somewhere between irritated and concerned. "Is this how he usually gets like when he takes off?"

"Sometimes he's better, sometimes he's worse." Blink shook his head. He was looking more and more uncomfortable the longer they stayed in the brothel. "Can we just talk to 'im and get outta here?"

"How long do you think he's been here for?"

"This chair, or this place? Probably a while. I doubt he's run into your brother here, but if anyone'll have any idea where a lost kid would go, it would be Jack."

At the sound of his name, Jack looked up from his glass. He looked dazed at first, as though he wasn't sure the other boy stood in front of him was real, but after a moment of assessment, his eyes narrowed. Despite the obvious difficulty he was having focusing, he managed to muster a mean-looking glower. "Whadda'ya want, Kid?"

Blink sighed, irritated, but in the way of someone who was enduring the same argument for the umpteenth time. "Don't ya think it's time t'come home, Jack?"

"I ain't _got_ a home, Blink," Jack snarled, then turned back to his glass. "We live on the fuckin' streets, if ya didn' notice. Buzz off."

Blink's good eye flashed with hurt, before he switched quickly to looking ready to throw a punch, opened his mouth to snap back at his friend. Allyson cut in before he could, afraid that if she let him speak again a fight would spark. Wanting to avoid that, she stepped forward until she was practically tripping over Jack's knees, and only then did he finally notice her.

"Who're you?" He fixed her with a confused expression, head lolling slightly. Gracelessly, he looked her up and down, and having determined her not to be one of the serving girls, quickly became annoyed again.

"I'm Allyson. I need your help, Jack."

"I ain't gonna leave." He grunted, already visibly disinterested in her, not bothering to look up and meet her eyes.

Fear seized her heart as she realised that her only hope was crumbling away before her, but she forced herself to try; she made herself stand straighter as she continued, "I'm looking for my brother. His name is Teddy."

Jack barked a single laugh. "What, like Roosevelt?"

She ignored him, the fear gripping her heart tighter. Her voice was small. "He's only ten, please, you have to..."

"I don't have to do anythin'." He snapped, then drained his glass.

"Please…"

Jack laughed bitterly, then turned away from her pointedly.

She stood frozen, unable to do anything but stare at him in disbelief as he heavily dropped his empty cup on a table top. She felt Blink gently take her by the shoulder, and he started to lead her back the way they came. They were only a few steps away when they heard the former strike-leader call after them.

"Y'know, I probably _could_ tell ya where he'd go," Jack drawled, "but I just honestly can't bring m'self ta give a shit."

The dread that had anchored itself in her suddenly disappeared, replaced by a burning anger. Slowly, she stopped and glanced back over her shoulder, looking again at the sad excuse of a man slouched alone in the dark of a whore house. "I almost forgot, Jack, Davey asked me to give you a message."

She flipped him off before storming out of the building.

She was still fuming three minutes later when Blink finally emerged, looking as angry as she felt. She hadn't realised he hadn't followed her. She didn't care enough to ask him what he'd been doing.

"That went well." Blink muttered under his breath, ripping his cap from his head and shoving it into the back pocket of his trousers. He started to search the pockets of his vest for another cigarette, and finally finding one, sunk down onto the edge of the street to light it. "That could'a gone better," he said, shaking out his match and flicking it into the road. "I don't think I've ever had such a stressful day before this one."

"I didn't ask you for your help," she spat, kicking at a loose stone on the road. "You _insisted_."

He didn't respond, and ignored her as began to pace. Another minute passed in complete silence, as Blink sat smoking, and Allyson continued to seethe and stomp the sidewalk. She couldn't think straight for all the red she was seeing.

"Your friend Jack is a real piece of work, you know."

Blink laughed forcibly. "He's not usually like that." He puffed out smoke as he turned back to look at her, his one eye cooly meeting her glare. "If ya keep up that scowlin' business, ya face is gonna get stuck like that. Won't be so pretty then."

"I told you not to call me that," she huffed.

"Uh-huh," he shrugged easily, turning back to the street. He had come down from his frustration so quickly, she was suddenly annoyed with him, – she took to glaring at the back of his head for what felt like an eternity, until he sighed, standing up suddenly. "I can't think here."

"About what?"

"About what we're gonna do about your brother." He looked at her earnestly, and she was so surprised by his response, she forgot she was being mad. He turned back to the road. "Let's go."

"Go where?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a smile finally tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I got the best place to think in all'a New York."

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he broke out in the wide grin she was becoming familiar with. "C'mon, I promise you'll like it. Swear it."

She sighed, relenting. "Alright."

She struggled to keep up with him as he jogged across town, easily ducking out of the way of pedestrians they passed. He kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure she was following. She tried to make note of their surroundings, to try and recognise anything she had seen earlier that day, though nothing stood out. Finally, he slowed to a walk before stopping in front of a factory warehouse. Blink looked between the building and Allyson, looking for some sign of her approval.

"Uh," she craned her neck to look up to the flat roof of the orange-bricked monolith, "it's a really nice factory?"

Blink laughed shortly. "Don't be like that, ya ain't seen the best of it yet."

Again, she trailed behind him as he led her to the side of the building to a wide alleyway, finding the ladder of a fire escape, and pulled himself up. Once he was on the grated landing he looked back down at her. "Can ya make it?"

She scowled slightly, blowing a stray strand of hair from her face. "'Course I can. You think I've never climbed a ladder before?"

She joined him above the alleyway easily, standing with her hands on her hips, silently challenging him. He raised his hands defensively.

"I didn't doubt y'could climb a ladder," he said, "I was just worried ya weren't tall enough ta reach the bottom rung."

She tried to take a swing at him, but he ducked out of the way, heading up the stairs with a laugh. She followed him up, watching as he took the steps two at a time. She was expecting them to continue climbing until they reached the rooftop, but instead Blink stopped on the landing about four levels lower. Dramatically he stepped toward the railing, gesturing grandly with his arms.

" _Voila,_ the best view you'll ever find in Manhattan!"

She prepared herself to give a sarcastic response before she actually looked out from the fire escape.

The view was literally breathtaking. She was slightly embarrassed to hear herself gasp aloud, but a glance at her host's face showed that he either didn't hear or wasn't bothered. The landing was in the perfect spot, just above the roofs surrounding the factory, but not so high that the sun was blinding, obscuring the city. From there, she could see how wide open the sky was, see the outlines of clouds, and the mellow autumn sun steadily lowering itself toward the far-off horizon. So close to the sky, she noted, that the world below had faded away into a distant hum, only the vaguest reminder of their lives back on the ground.

She looked back at Blink, who was still wearing a wide grin, leaning casually against the iron railing.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I'll admit," she started, wrapping her hands around the rail, "it's pretty damn impressive."

"I come here whenever I wanna get away from everything else." His tone had turned serious as he turned to look over the railing as well. "Only a few other people know about this spot."

"I'm sure you say that to every girl you bring up here."

Blink snorted a laugh. "Y'caught me there."

She took one more look at the city before turning to sit on one of the steps, tucking her feet up on the one below. The landing was bare of evidence that anyone had ever been there, aside from a blanket that sat in the far corner, balled up and looking worse for wear. "You've slept up here?"

From where she sat, she could only see his covered eye as he turned slightly toward her. "Sometimes. It's not all that bad. The stars are something else. You can see them better here than anywhere else in the city."

"I can imagine."

Blink finally sat down on the step below her, beside her beaten-up boots, and turned so he was leaning against the brick wall. He looked lost in thought, and they were both quiet for a heartbeat before he said, "he's not usually like that, y'know."

She snorted. "You mentioned that."

"He's just in a foul mood."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

He rolled his good eye at her. "I just mean that he ain't usually so bitter. He's just been like that since the strike."

She frowned. "Why would he be?"

"Hell if I know. You'd have to ask him." He shook his head. "If I had to guess, he got overwhelmed. Things got too good for him, y'know?"

"I guess?" She wasn't actually sure she did understand – to run away from finally getting everything, it sounded like the opposite that anyone would want to do. "Sounds like an odd reason."

"Well," Blink continued, "ya have to put yourself in his shoes. He's lived out on the streets longer than a lot of us. You an' I both know ya get used to havin' nothin' but bad luck. But, suddenly, everything was goin' his way. He got a girl – a good girl, too, with an education, a nice family that liked him – he took the giants of the news world down a peg. He was gettin' everything. And I'd guess that scared him off, too worried it'll all fall away."

"Sounds like that's more than a guess," Allyson said.

Blink shrugged. "Haven't you ever had something good, only to have it be taken away? Nothin's worse than that."

She considered for a moment what that would feel like, and realised she was thinking of Molly. Kid Blink gave her a curious look as she shook the memory of her friend out of her head. He seemed about to ask what the matter was, but she cut him off, saying, "what are we supposed to do now, though? If he can't help me find Teddy, I don't know where to go from here."

Blink turned to look off into the city. "I dunno. We could ask around ourselves, someone's gotta know something."

"And what are we to ask them? Have you seen a kid out on the streets? Have you seen a little boy with brown hair and brown eyes?" She groaned, burying her face in her hands, feeling like she was going to cry again. She was tired of feeling hopeless. "I've already tried that when we looked for him in the Bronx. ' _He's got eyes and a face like me,'_ as though that helps things."

She quietly tried to calm herself down, forcing herself not to break down for what felt like the hundredth time that day. When she finally looked up, Blink was staring at her, an odd look on his face.

"Y'know," he said, "your eyes ain't brown."

Allyson lowered her hands into her lap, confused. "What?"

Kid Blink cocked his head slightly, staring at her still. She was starting to squirm under his gaze, even though she could tell he didn't mean to make her uncomfortable. "Your eyes ain't brown. They're like, I dunno, more of a hazel."

"Hazel?"

"Y'know," he gestured vaguely, trying to find an example in the landscape, but stopped when he couldn't, "well, uh, like they're more of a green."

She felt her face drop, Blink watching as tears welled in her eyes. She took a deep breath, but it came out like the beginning of a sob, then she couldn't stop herself as hot tears tracked down her cheeks. Kid Blink immediately hoisted himself up next to her on her step.

"Hey! Don't cry! I'm sorry I said anything." His voice came out slightly strained with panic. "I didn't mean to upset ya! What's the matter?"

"I just, I don't even know what my own eyes look like!" Allyson wiped viciously at her face, though she couldn't make herself stop. "If I don't know what _I_ look like, how could I know what Teddy looks like? I'm never going to find him!"

He awkwardly patted her shoulder, which, though not as comforting as he probably intended, she appreciated nonetheless. With a deep breath, she slowly able to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, turning her face away from him. "I'm sorry for crying."

"Don't be," he said quietly. She looked up at him, sure her face was now blotchy and tear-stained, and his expression softened. "Look, its okay. Nothin' wrong with cryin'. Don't be sorry."

"It's not really." She took another wobbly inhale, trying to catch her breath. "I never cry in front of people. Especially not in front of strangers."

Blink laughed dryly. "Strangers? After spending your whole day with me, ya think ya can call me a stranger?"

"I barely know you," she said weakly, and he chuckled.

"So? Get to know me. Not my fault you get awful prickly."

She laughed quietly. "That's not a nice thing to say to someone you're trying to be friends with."

Blink shrugged, and she sat up straight, wiping under her eyes one last time. He leaned back against the staircase, elbows propped on the step behind him. "Really, though. You can ask me anythin'."

"What if I don't want to ask you anything?"

He looked confused, but then smirked. "Well, then I'll start to ask you myself."

He must have caught her horrified expression, because he laughed. She considered this threat for a moment, and started to think seriously about what she wanted to know from him – _what happened to your eye? What's your real name?_ – but she decided that those would be too personal. She finally decided on the most benign thing she could come up with; "What's your favourite colour?"

He laughed again. "What kind of question's that?"

"You insisted I ask you something, it seemed the most basic!"

He raised his hands defensively, before saying, "Its yellow."

"Why?"

He shook his head. "I dunno, just is. Always has been. What's yours?"

She raised a finger to stop him. "Uh-uh. I didn't say you could ask me anything."

"That's not how it works! If we're going to be friends, I want to know your favourite colour, too." He smiled as she rolled her eyes. "It's not like it's that hard a question."

"Green," she grumbled.

He seemed satisfied with that answer, then asked another; "how old are ya?"

"Sixteen." She clenched her jaw slightly, not enjoying letting him pry into her life. He laughed triumphantly.

"Aha! I'm older than you, then. I turned seventeen a little while back."

She rolled her eyes, then tried to think of something else to ask, staring at him. He frowned, then said, as though he was reading her mind, "You _can_ ask about my eye, if you's dyin' to know."

"Who says I care?"

"It's all anyone ever wants to know about." He said lazily.

"You're the one making a big deal about it," she said, but then allowed herself to give in to her curiosity. "Are you really blind?"

Blink nodded. "Since as long as I can remember. But I'm sure you could imagine how many folks think I'm faking it, considering the line of work we're in."

She bit her lip, staring at him. "Does it bother you when people ask?"

"Not anymore." He shrugged. Then, he decided it was his turn again; "Who's the friend that got you to become a newsie?"

She stiffened, not expecting him to ask her that. "I don't want to talk about her."

"Sorry. I didn't know it was a touchy subject – you's in a fight or something?"

Allyson felt her throat tighten, but forced out the truth – it would be easier to tell him than to let him speculate on his own. "She's dead."

He looked shocked, but didn't get a chance to respond as she quickly continued. "Her name was Molly. She got sick."

"I'm sorry," His voice was soft. "I didn't mean to…"

"Its fine," she snapped, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Looking out from the landing, she saw that the sun was gone behind the tops of the buildings, the sky a wash of purples and pinks as the inky darkness of night took over. She stood up. "It's getting late, shouldn't you head home?"

Blink considered her for a moment, trying to see if she was angry at him, but then followed her lead, jumping to his feet. "Where are you gonna go? Ya want me to take ya to the girl's lodging house?"

She shook her head _no_. The last thing she needed was to find herself in a bunk with a bunch of girls she didn't know. "I'll stay out."

"Ya can't just sleep on the streets!"

"Of course I can. I've done it before." For a moment, they stared at each other, and Blink was the first to look away.

"Fine, if ya insist," Blink put a hand to his forehead, not willing to fight with her. "At least let me walk you to where I'll be staying? So if ya find any trouble, y'can come get me?"

"Aright."

She followed him back down the fire escape, feeling odd to be back on the ground. He led her up the road a few blocks away, past walls of identical buildings, but it was a fairly simple path to follow. He stopped outside a building which reminded her of the lodge in the Bronx, the lights inside burning with a welcoming glow. He turned to face her, hands jammed in his vest pockets.

"I know you won't be able to get too far away from here, so how's about I come find you in the morning? Just don't get completely lost."

"I won't." She wasn't sure what to do after that, so she raised her hand in an uncomfortable wave. "Goodnight, Blink."

He smiled. "'Night, Allyson."

She watched him enter the lodging house before she turned on her heel. Though it almost felt wrong to head back to the warehouse without him, since he'd told her it was his place, it was the only place she could think of, and he himself had said it wasn't that bad a place to sleep. She pushed back her guilt as she hoisted herself up the ladder and climbed back up the stairs to Blink's landing.

The air had cooled considerably as the moon had taken the sun's place for the night. She curled up on her side close to the wall, and considered pulling the ragged old blanket over herself, though that felt like too much. She remembered the last time she had slept outside – she hadn't lied that she'd done it before, she'd just never done it without someone else with her. Before winter had come in Allyson's first year on the streets, before she and Molly decided to stay with Red in his grandfather's cellar, they would often tuck themselves into the nooks they found in the backs of alleys for the night. They would sleep close together, keeping each other warm, sharing secrets until they drifted off.

She couldn't help but miss her, the feeling like a knife twisting in her chest. She growled to herself, feeling weak for it. It had been almost two years, and she still wasn't over her death. Even Red, who had known her longer wasn't as held down by his grief like Allyson still was. The two of them had been close, though in a different way; Molly had been in love with him, and Red may have been with her, though it was hard to tell with him if he didn't say it in the exact words. He had protected the both of them, even before they stayed with him. But when Molly had died, his world hadn't shattered like hers had.

She wondered what Molly would have made of the situation with Jack. She realised Molly wouldn't have left without hearing what she had wanted, that she would have been stronger than Allyson. She wouldn't have started to cry, or thrown a tantrum. Molly had always been stronger than her, too. She felt like if Molly could see her now, she would have been disappointed that Allyson couldn't live up to her memory.

She turned over, trying to stop the heartache she was still feeling in her chest. With her back on the grate, she could see through the landings overhead.

She was surprised at how bright the sky still was, though not from the sun or the moon, but the stars. Blink had been right about them – they were something else, though the iron grate of the landing above her blotted out half the view.

Carefully, she sat up, and began to climb to the top of the warehouse.

The top landing of the escape was open to the air, not quite flush with the roof, and she sat down in the center of it as she looked up. She had never felt so close to the world above her. She suddenly remembered one of her teachers from many years ago describing how each star was actually a sun, surrounded by its own planets, much like earth to their own. Each little pin-point of light, uncountable, with even more planets out there, too. They dazzled, covering the whole of the deep black sky. She had never seen so many of them from the streets. She wondered if anyone could ever see them all.

For a second, she entertained the idea of reaching up, as though she grab the lights in her hand. She knew it was silly, a voice in the back of her mind chastising her for her childishness. Still, she waved her palm over the sky, as though she could make the stars dance in her wake. She imagined she could touch them with the tips of her fingers, if she really tried.

She felt very small and very big all at once. She didn't know what to make of it.


	6. Chapter 6

Someone cleared their throat, startling her awake. It took Allyson a moment to remember where she was, squinting against the light of early morning as she slowly sat up. She had fallen asleep on the top landing of the fire escape, though she didn't remember drifting off. She looked up, finding Blink standing over her with an amused smirk.

"I figured I'd find you here," he said, offering her a hand up. She ignored it, carefully pushing herself up off the ground.

He watched her as he raked her fingers through her hair, and as she picked her cap off the ground from where it had fallen at some point during the night. She secured it on her head before straightening herself out, adjusting the denim straps of her overalls, and pulling her jacket back into place. When she was done, she looked at him, and he glanced away, realising he was staring.

"What?" She snapped, trying to not be embarrassed that he had been watching her.

He smiled just the slightest bit. "Y'want me to find you a real brush?"

"No," she said stiffly, crossing her arms defensively over her chest, now more annoying at him making fun of her. "I'm fine. What are you doing here?"

Blink looked surprised, as though that were an odd question – and after a second, she realised it maybe was. He was the only person in Manhattan she really knew, for one. Plus he had said the night before we would find her. He looked over his shoulder awkwardly, back to the city streets.

"Mush is waiting; we gotta go to the circulation office."

"Why'd you come get me then?"

"You're comin', aren't you?" He smiled again. "I thought you said you was a newsie?"

"I am, but, I just thought," she shook her head, trying to clear the sleep from her mind. "I thought we would be going back to _Sunny's_."

He laughed drily. "What for? You liked getting yelled at by a drunk so much? Unless you got any better ideas, there ain't a good reason to go back." He caught her shocked look. "Yet. Look, we'll just have to think of something – we'll go back. But first, I got a job to do, and you might as well come, too."

She couldn't argue with that – she had a job, too, – except that she suddenly remembered the pile of change she had neglected after winning at cards the day before. "But I don't have any money."

"I'll spot ya," he said, already headed down the fire escape. With some reluctance, Allyson followed after.

Leaning easily against the wall at the bottom of the ladder was the darker-skinned boy from the day before, who, after Allyson and Blink dropped down from the balcony, peeled into a wide smile.

"Heya, Bronx!" His voice was cheerier than Allyson thought necessary, and despite the slight chill of the morning, he was still wearing his cropped pants. Allyson raised her eyebrows at him in response, and he laughed loudly. "How'd ya sleep?"

She looked to Blink, who just shrugged. Mush laughed again; "Not talkative in the mornings – I get ya." As they stepped out of the alleyway and into the quiet streets, he turned his attention to Blink, "you think we're gonna miss the nuns?"

Allyson frowned, half-jogging to keep up with the long-legged boys. "Nuns?"

Hearing her finally speak, Mush's face lit up, as though it were the best thing that had happened to him yet today. "Yeah, there's a couple who come out to give us somethin' to eat in the mornings. Usually just coffee and bread, but food's food, eh?" He hummed slightly as he thought, then said, "I don't think we'll have made it in time though, right?"

"Prolly not, but its fine," Blink said plainly with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "Ain't the first time any of us have gone without breakfast."

"No," Mush said, voice slightly mournful, "but I was looking forward to it."

Blink snorted. "Well, if it means so much to you, Mush, I'll buy you a cup of shit coffee and a stale lump of bread myself, alright?"

Mush laughed, and the three of them turned the corner of the block just in time to catch the tail end of a group of other newsboys headed to the same place. Following the pack, they arrived at the same square as Allyson had found the group hanging around the day before, the statue seated at its center, watching over them all as they passed.

Once behind the iron gate of the World circulation office, the boys led Allyson to join the queue. Seeing them arrive, the short loudmouth Racetrack dropped back to meet up with them, unlit cigar hanging from his mouth.

"Hey, boys," he said to Blink and Mush, then turned to Allyson with a less annoyed expression than she was expecting. "Hey Bronx. Blink tells me ya found Jack."

Allyson scoffed. "Yeah, he was a real charmer. You were right about leaving well-enough alone, I think."

Racetrack stuck his smoke behind his ear, regarding Allyson seriously. "Yeah, well as much as I hate to not take the opportunity to be right… Blink told me 'bout the whole thing, and I think you're the one who's right here."

Beside him, Mush and Blink had the decency to look slightly horrified at this admission. Annoyed, Racetrack waved them off. "Look, Jacky boy is one of my best pals, and I know I said that I was fine with him doin' whatever in god's name he thinks he's doin', but I think this time he'd be better comin' back and just dealin' with his shit like everyone else."

"That's rich, coming from you," the dower boy from the day before, Skittery, had come up behind Racetrack, listening in on the shorter boy's confession.

"Y'know what, Skittery? You can shove it." Race pushed his shoulder, though the taller boy simply rolled his eyes. "I'm serious. If Jack's got a problem, he's gotta face it himself."

Skittery smirked. "If you think so, why don't you go get him yourself?"  
Racetrack opened his mouth to snap back, but the line had moved up, and the tiller was calling for him to collect his papers. When he stepped up, Skittery filled his place at the front of the line.

"So I take it he was real bad?"

Blink nodded. "As bad as I've ever seen him."

"Well, you would know, huh." Skittery tugged at the brim of his hat nervously. "You've known him longest."

He shrugged, obviously uncomfortable. "I guess."

Skittery stepped up to the distribution counter before things got too uncomfortable, then Mush said, "You think you're gonna get him back?"

"We'll manage, somehow," he said, glancing at Allyson. Though his tone was steady, he didn't look particularly confident.

"He didn't seem too keen to come back yesterday," Allyson said. "What makes you think he'll be more willing today?"

Kid Blink shrugged. "Usually we let him come back when he feels like it. But I think Race has a point, and you have put a time constraint on things – so we'll just have to figure something out."

Allyson shrugged, too, when Blink turned to her for some kind of reaction. "I just want to know where my brother is."

"Then we'll figure a way to both," Blink said, before stepping up to the counter himself.

Allyson followed him up uncertainly, then stepped to the side, following the other boys where they were gathering to chat before heading off to their sales. She stood awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Blink to come down, when someone slung their arm over her shoulder.

"Hey, Spinner, how's it rollin'?" Rook smiled lazily at her when she glanced over. Opera was nearby as always, watching quietly.

"Don't call me that," she said, shrugging out from under him. She bumped into Blink, who had finally stepped down from the office, papers under his arm and eyebrows raised. "I already told you, call me Allyson."

"Right, right. How's that rescue mission goin'?"

"It's goin'." Beside her Blink nodded in silent agreement.

"Uh huh," he rolled his neck casually, clapping Opera on the shoulder. "Well, we're off. See ya around."

She didn't respond, watching the two saunter off without any papers between the two of them.

"Spinner?" Blink said, halving his stack of papers and passing them to her.

"It's an old name," she said quickly. "Don't worry about it. How much you want me to split you for the papers."

He shrugged. "Half?"

"Sure."

Blink waited until Mush caught up with his own stack under arm, and the taller boy wished them good luck for the day before heading off on his own, Allyson and Blink then heading off in the other direction, Allyson trailing behind once again. Not too far from the square, he turned to look at her as they were walking.

"So why's it an old name?"

"What?"

"The Spinner thing."

She shot him a glare. "I told you not to worry about it."

"I ain't worried about it, I'm asking about it."

Her first instinct was to tell him that it was none of his business, but then considered what they had talked about the evening before.

"It's the name Molly gave me when I first started living on the streets."

He was quiet for a moment, and she was relived, thinking that was the end of the questions, before he spoke up again. "What's it from?"  
She fought again to not snap at him to leave it alone, instead admitting, "I dance. Sometimes."

"Not anymore?"

She readjusted her cap, stalling to swallow the catch in her voice. "Not really. No reason to, and even if there is, I don't have anyone to dance with – except Doc, I guess, but she's not great or anything, anyway." She started again, not able to stop herself from talking suddenly; "used to dance when Dusty and I were… well, whatever, doesn't matter now. I haven't in a while."

He hummed thoughtfully, adjusting his grip on the stack of newsprint, and she wondered if she had babbled too much. "So no one calls you Spinner?"

"Not since she died. We were a team – Birdy and Spinner. She sang, I danced, and otherwise, we were always together." She shrugged it off like it was nothing, though her heart had started to feel heavy again. "Doesn't feel right using it when she's not here."

"Yeah, I get it." He gave her a careful look with his one good eye, as though trying to assess her.

"Don't do that."

"What?"

"Look at me like that – like there's something wrong. I'm fine."

He shrugged. "I wasn't lookin' at ya like anythin'." He laughed, shooting her a grin. "I was wondering if you're actually any good at dancin'."  
She rolled her eyes. "I am."

"Uh huh, of course," he continued smiling. "Maybe you oughta prove it. I ain't so bad myself."

She wasn't sure if he just blinked or if he was winking at her, but either way, she felt herself flush. "Shut up, I won't dance with you."

"We'll see," he laughed, then picked up the pace as the two crossed the city.

* * *

The spot Blink brought her to wasn't too different from her usual place in front of the zoo. It was the entrance of a park, and similarly to how she would sell, he tried to catch people who were on their way to work. She hung back, sitting on the edge of a short stone wall, and watched him as he approached the well-dressed men who passed, ignoring the few who stared at her as they bought the news. She knew she looked odd, a girl wearing boy's clothes, but she was used to the people in her usual spot in the Bronx, who had seen her often enough to not mind anymore.

Blink noticed too, and turned to her with a slight smirk. "You usually get this much attention in the Bronx?"  
She shook her head. "Not really. Most people see me every day. I have a couple of regulars, actually."

"Didn't think that was allowed," he said, turning back to his potential customers.

"Didn't know there were rules," she countered, stepping up to flag down a young woman Blink was trying to get the attention of. Noticing the female newsie, the girl stepped forward with slight apprehension, but at the same time wore a curious expression as she stared at Allyson. After a quick, polite exchange, the paper had been exchanged for a coin, and Allyson shot Blink a smug look.

"That's not fair," he said, but grinned anyway. "You can't do that!

"Do what? I didn't do anything."

"Yeah, ya did; you got her all mystified."

She tilted her head slightly, still feeling triumphant. "She probably just hadn't seen a girl in overalls before."

"She probably was jealous."

Allyson shrugged, finally pocketing her pay, before stepping out again. Though she was used to selling to the same sort of people in the Bronx, the ones passing by them were more apprehensive, though she was hoping to use their interest in an oddly-dressed girl to her advantage. Slowly she started to draw some of the passerby's away from Blink, most people looking perplexed still at her appearance, but buying the papers she was proffering none-the-less. Eventually she stepped back, handing the last third of her newsprint to Blink.

"I have enough," she said, pointing to her pocket. "Even with your half taken out, I have enough to get something to eat."

Surprised, Blink accepted the last few of her copies, adding them to his pile. She returned to her post at the sidelines and watched as he sold. She realised he had a technique to how he did it to, though it seemed the same as most other's – hawking the headline and getting attention, creating drama and intrigue from less-than-exciting stories – but once he had their attention, the fact that he had an eyepatch was what really drew them in.

"How odd to be in a place where having one eye is less interesting than seeing a girl selling papers," she mused, and Blink half-laughed, handing off his very last paper.

"What, are there a lot of girls in the Bronx?"

"Not a lot, but more than here."

"There are girls here, just not," he pursed his lips, waving vaguely. "'Round here not so much."

She made a non-committal sound, watching as he wiped his ink-stained hands over his pants. He looked surprised when he looked up and caught her staring, but smirked. "Can I help ya?"

She felt herself blush for the second time that morning, but ignored it, shaking her head 'no.' "Just wondering if we're ever going to get food – I'm starving."

"Well, luckily for you I have just the place."

He started to walk off, but she grabbed his sleeve to stop him.

"Wait," she started rooting around in her pocket, pulling out her earnings and then counting them out in her palm. "Here, this is your half."

"Nah," he said easily, "keep it."

"You said you wanted half, so here's half."

"I decided I don't want it anymore."

She glared at him. "Well, that's dumb, because this is yours. We had an agreement."

"No, thanks," he said, staring to walk away again. She balled her hand into a fist around the coins, and jogged to catch up to him.

"I'm not a charity case," she spat.

"Neither am I." He looked at her, and though his voice sounded slightly annoyed, there was a glint of something like humour in his one eye. "Just keep the damn money, Allyson."

She made a loud, un-ladylike sound of barely-muffled anger, making him laugh aloud.

"You're such an ass."

He smiled at her as he drew a cigarette from inside his vest. "If not taking someone else's hard-earned pay makes me an ass, then I'm an ass."

"But I owe you now," she groaned. Yet another debt. But he shrugged.

"I mean, if ya want to." A mischievous look crossed his face, and she barely resisted the urge to punch him. "How's about that dance, huh?"

"I'm serious!"

"I'm serious, too."

She groaned again. "You always such a disgusting flirt?"

He laughed. "I've been told I can be. Don't think I can help it."

She wanted to punch him again. "You weren't yesterday."

"Maybe not," he said, "or maybe you weren't paying attention."

The rest of the walk to wherever it was Blink was leading her was quiet, as she tried to remember and analyze everything he had said to her the day before, though she couldn't think of anything that was particularly flirtatious. Annoyed, she finally gave up, deciding her was just trying to get on her nerves – she didn't want to give him the satisfaction, though it was probably too late for that. Eventually, Blink led her to a corner with a small diner, the front window painted with the name " _Tibby's_."

"Here we are," he announced, then pulled the door open for her. Awkwardly, she passed through, and found that the inside was full up of the other newsboys, only a few of the booths and tables taken up by other folks. There was an older gentleman, possibly the owner of the place, who Blink turned to and asked for two sandwiches. Across the dining room, Mush saw them, waved them over to his table excitedly.

"Hey, Mush," Kid Blink nodded as he took the seat across from his friend, forcing Allyson to sit between them. "How'd it go?"

"Good! Saw the girl I been talking to again, and y'know what she told me?"

Blink shook his head, looking amused already.

"She told me that she knew I been talkin' to some other girls, can you believe it?"

Though he didn't say anything, Allyson could tell by Blink's expression that he could, in fact, believe it, but Mush carried on.

"But then she tells me she doesn't even care, that she likes that other other girls like me, too, can you believe that?"

Allyson glanced at Blink gain to try and gauge his response, but he was uncharacteristically stoic.

"Jeez, Mush, what're ya gonna do?"

Mush shrugged, and as he was about to speak again, the door to the cafe opened and he jumped up to meet the newcomer. When he had left the table, Blink turned to Allyson with the same blank expression.

"Is that normal?"

"Normal for what? Mush or in general?" Blink shook his head, "nah, that's Mush for ya. Always got somethin' goin' on with someone."

"And you're not so impressed?"

"I don't really care," he said, "ain't me who's gotta deal with the jealous girls trailin' after him."

The older man came by the table with two plated sandwiches, and set them down in front of Blink and Allyson, and two glasses of water. Blink thanked the man, passing him an amount of change.

When the server walked away from the table, Allyson turned on Blink.

"You're not paying for my lunch," she hissed.

"Too late."

"You may think you're being clever, but you're just being annoying[1] ." She pushed the plate away from her. "I'm not eating it."

"Fine then, I'll just eat 'em both."

"Dear God, you both been goin' at it like this for the last two days?" Racetrack took the seat Mush had been sitting in before, dropping with a heavy sigh. "I'm getting' exhausted just listenin'."

"Then maybe you should mind your own business, Race."

"Maybe I would, if you both weren't makin' it the whole joint's already."

Allyson took a quick glance around the diner, and noticed that Race was right – all the other newsies were staring and laughing quietly between one another. Blink didn't bother looking, instead taking a pointed bite from his sandwich; but while he seemed to not care about being a spectacle, she couldn't agree, and she quickly grabbed up the second sandwich and tucked it into a paper napkin.

"Thanks for lunch," she said as she stood from the table and bolted out of the restaurant, not staying even long enough to hear Blink's protest.

She wandered a ways down the street until she found a quieter corner, and taking a seat against the wall of the building behind her, she took a small bite from her sandwich. Her solitude only lasted a short minute, as Blink came jogging up to where she was sitting.

"Jesus, Al, a little warnin' next time?"

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, tucking the sandwich back into its paper. "You didn't have to come after me."

He shook his head, sinking down to sit next to her on the pavement. "A'course I did. Why'd ya take off like that?"

She shrugged. "I just… I'm just not good with people."

He gave a short laugh. "I mean, I could'a told you that."

She nudged him with her elbow, and he returned in kind. She nudged him again, then said, "no, but I'm just not used to being around so many people. And I'm not used to eating inside."

Blink raised his eyebrows. "Where do you eat, then?"

"Wherever. Sometimes in the park with Doc, or outside of the boys' lodge, or by the university with Red. But not inside usually." _And not with so many strangers around_ , she thought.

"What about when it's cold out?" He was grinning mischievously, as though he had caught her out.

"We just eat in the cellar," she said, then at Blink's peculiar look, she added, "that's where we live. The cellar of Red's Grandfather's woodshop."

"Where's your brother live?"

She turned her attention to staring at her sandwich intensely. Thinking of Teddy made her lose her appetite. "Home. With our parents."

Blink nodded thoughtfully, then asked, "Why don't you live there, too, then?"

She shrugged. "Why don't _you_ live at home?"

"My parents are dead," he said, as a casually as one would say that the sky was blue.

Her heart dropped as she realised what she had just said, and she waited for him to say something more, to get mad, or upset with her. But he didn't.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, voice small.

"Don't be." From where he was sitting, she couldn't see where he was looking, his head turned straight ahead and his eyepatch hiding his gaze. "It's not like I'm the only orphan in New York. It doesn't matter."

Without thinking, she grasped his forearm, drawing his attention. As their eyes met, she forgot what she was going to say for a second, suddenly realising just how blue his good eye was, and the golden eyelashes that framed it… She caught herself, and silently reprimanded herself, before getting back on track.

"You're not the only orphan, but that still isn't fair. And I'm sorry that I said that." She kept eye contact with him, suddenly afraid to look away. "We're friends, right?"

He blinked once, then twice, before he replied. "Yeah, we're friends."

"Then, because we're friends, you should know that you do matter to me." As soon as she said it, she regretted it, if only because she wasn't able to read the way his expression changed. He gently pulled his arm away, then stood back up from the ground.

"We should get going."

"Where?"

"I have an idea about Jack. C'mon," he said, reaching out to help her to her feet. She accepted. "But first, you going to eat the rest of your lunch?"

* * *

AN: Hey everyone, thank you so much for reading _The Stars At My Fingertips_ so far! I don't usually write Author's notes, but I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all for your interest in my story - Allyson and co. are a bunch of characters who have been plaguing me for the last five years (in a good way!), so I finally decided to put pen to paper, and I'm so happy with all the response it's garnered. Thank you all for the follows and reviews, and please feel free to leave one if you haven't, they mean so much to me, in giving me both feedback and support for my writing! I really appreciate it. Thank you again!


	7. Chapter 7

"Why do I feel like you're going to get us in trouble?"

"I only got so many talents, Al." Kid Blink said lightly. "I gotta play to my strengths."

She couldn't help but groan as she followed him again across town toward _Sunny's_ , blindly trailing after him despite not knowing what he was plotting.

"What are you going to do?"

Blink took a half step, letting her catch up to his stride. "Y'know how Jack's real pissed. 'Cos he doesn't think anyone gives a shit about him?"

"I guess?"

"Well," Blink hooked his thumbs in his vest pockets, "I was thinking that if we got him more pissed about somethin' else, we could get him out."

"Okay, but that sounds like a terrible idea."

"Maybe. But until we get him outta there, we ain't gonna be able to get anything out of him." They turned the corner into the familiar outskirts of Chinatown, and Allyson had to jog to catch up to Blink again. "So we're gonna have to get him out."

"So, what're you going to do, then?"

The mischievous look was back as Blink said, "I'm not goin' to do anything. You are."

"What?" She stopped dead in her tracks. "What do you mean?"

"We're gonna get him kicked out."

"No, absolutely not. You want me to do that?" She raised her hands defensively. "I can't."

"Sure you can. You just gotta make him mad." He smiled, but she didn't return it. "It'll be easy, you just gotta piss him off."

She looked at him in disbelief. "And how am I supposed to do that?"

"You get mad first. Jack can't back away from a challenge, and it'll get him in trouble." She was about to protest, but he cut her off, saying, "You want to find your brother, don't ya?"

"Of course I do!"

"And you're mad he won't help, right? You were yesterday!"

"Well yes, but – "

"Just do that again!"

"I can't just be angry on command, Blink." She worried her lip, trying to draw up the same feelings she had had yesterday, but mostly she just felt tired when she thought of encountering Jack.

"Don't worry, then, you won't have to," Blink started up the block again, headed for the unfortunately familiar brothel building. "If there's one thing I know about Jack, it's that he has a talent for gettin' on people's nerves."

They entered the building the same as before, passing quickly through the small entryway and into the smoky lounge. Allyson had to walk twice as fast to keep up with Blink's confident stride, and then had to force herself not to jump back as Sunny tried to cut them off.

"You! Girl, back again? You pay this time!" The woman demanded, as intimidating as before, Allyson flinching away from her as she followed Blink's lead.

"We'll just be a moment," Blink said loudly, not breaking stride. As they passed, Allyson glanced behind the madam and notices another severe looking figure; a man so similar in appearance to Sunny that they may have been siblings. Allyson assumed he was supposed to act as the brothel's security, but he didn't move as Allyson dodged past his sister, his expression neutral. She could feel Sunny's glare fixed on them as they crossed the brothel floor. Approaching Jack's section, Allyson nearly knocked into one of the working girls who was retreating from the circle of armchairs with a crystal decanter. She yelped, clutching the pitcher to her breast as Allyson mumbled an apology, Blink having the pick up the pace to catch back up to Blink. They finally came to a halt in front of Jack, who was dozing off, head hanging as he was still sitting upright in the same chair.

Allyson shot Blink a look, as if to say ' _what do you want me to do?_ ' He simply waved his hand toward the other boy, which was not terribly helpful. Nervously, she stepped forward, mumbling a greeting. When Jack didn't stir, she turned back to look at Blink with a small shrug. Blink rolled his eye, then waved her toward the other boy again. Turning back to the sleeping figure, she kicked at his foot, startling him awake. The two stared at each other for a heartbeat, before she finally said, "Hey."

Jack scowled at her, same as he had the day before. "What the hell are y'doin' here again? Thought we decided ya didn't want anythin' ta do with me yesterday."

Allyson huffed, glancing back at Blink, who gave her a supportive nod. "Yeah, well, I guess I changed my mind."

Jack glanced behind her, spotting Blink hovering a few feet back, trying to look as sorry as possible. "What's this, Blink? You can't keep ya girl on a leash?"

Immediately, she realised that Blink had been right – Jack did have a talent for saying just the right thing to piss people off. She sucked on her teeth, considering the seating area around them. On the table next to Jack's right arm was a small crystalline glass, half-filled with some sort of liquor. As she plucked up the glass, she wondered if she was acting too drastically, before pushing that feeling aside – if she was supposed to make him mad, she was going to make him mad – and upturned the glass's contents over Jack's head. There was a moment of shocked silence between the two boys, both their jaws dropping, and Allyson held the glass overhead, fuming quietly.

"Why you little –," Jack gasped, gripping the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white.

"Ah-ah, you listen to me." Jack's face reddened, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched down on his fury. "Firstly, I'm no one's girl, and if you suggest someone leash me again, I'll make you regret it." She regarded the glass still in hand, as though considering smashing it against his face. "We've started off on a bad foot, so let's say we start over? Then, you can tell me where it is you think my brother might be."

"I'm goin' ta kill ya," Jack growled, and Blink stepped up to stand slightly in front of Allyson. Allyson was going to start something, and she was going to regret it; especially now that Blink had decided to step in. She wasn't sure if this was going along with his plan any longer.

"Fine," Blink said, raising his hands, ready to grapple. "Let's go then, Jacky-boy."

"Blink," Allyson started, but he gave her a gentle nudge back.

"Get out of the way, Al."

Jack made a guttural noise as he launched up from the armchair, throwing it to the floor with a loud _crack_ , making a grab for Blink. His aim was off form the effects of either his bad sleep or the cheap liquor he'd been downing, and Blink was easily able to step back from him. Blink grabbed the taller boy by the back of his shirt, dragging him back and then throwing him into the toppled arm chair. Allyson took a step back, wanting to distance herself from the commotion – though she backed into the man she had seen behind Sunny before. He met Allyson's eyes as she looked up, wearing the same neutral expression as before. The young woman Allyson had bumped into before hovered nearby like a nervous bird, looking every bit like she was expecting to get in trouble, too, and watched with a sympathetic wince as the man roughly grabbed Allyson's shoulder. Blink and Jack both looked up to see Sunny looming over them, who, if looks could kill, would have had the three newsies dead on the ground in an instant. "You all, out! Do not come back."

The three were herded out by the man and Sunny, tossed onto the streets almost literally.

Blink sighed as he picked himself up, quickly helping Allyson to her feet. Jack was struggling to get back up a few feet away, muttering to himself unintelligibly.

Allyson and Blink exchanged a look as Jack finally managed to haul himself upright, then immediately turned out to the streets, hollering like a wild animal.

"What do we do now?" She asked, watching the older boy stagger and nearly fall back to the paved ground.

"I dunno," Blink said, leaning against Allyson's shoulder as he watched his old friend struggle to keep his balance. "This was kinda as far as I had planned."

"Great."

"Well, at least it worked."

She gave him a sidelong glance. "What do you all usually do when he's out like that?"

"Eh, usually we let him have his tantrum for however long it takes – eventually he comes back. Never had someone come after him like this, though."

As though finally remembering that they were there, Jack turned, a fury burning in his eyes like Allyson had never seen before. He immediately stormed toward them, fist raised – as soon as he was in range of Blink, he took a swing, but Blink quickly stepped back, pulling Allyson with him.

"Whoa, whoa," Blink said, no longer interested in fighting. "Cool it, Cowboy."

"You cool it!" Jack was spitting mad, and swung again. Both Allyson and Blink jumped out of the way, leaving Jack to stagger forward violently until he tripped into the steps up to the brothel's door.

"Jack, c'mon," Blink stepped forward to try and hoist the other boy up, but Jack shook him off. "We're just tryin' to help."

Jack laughed bitterly. "Tryn'a help? By gettin' me kicked outta only place in the world that anyone gives a shit 'bout me?"

"Y'know that's not true, Jack."

"Go to hell, Blink."

For a second Allyson could have sworn there was a flash of genuine pain across Blink's face, but it went away as soon as it had turned up. She steeled herself, stepping forward.

"Enough. Pull yourself together," she said, forcing her voice into a mimicry of her mother's – authoritative but gentle. Jack looked at her cynically. "You're acting like a child – you make your friends worried sick and then you insult them. You're throwing a fit over getting thrown out of a whorehouse, for God's sake. I remember you at the rally. You're better than this – smarter."

"Yeah, well," Jack spat, "That guy's long gone."

"He's not," she said evenly, "He's just being an idiot." She offered him her hand. "Come with us, sober up. If you want to find somewhere to sulk afterwards, I won't stop you."

Jack's eyes narrowed, looking suspiciously between her and Blink, but Allyson kept her hand steady.

"I'll buy you food, too."

With a resigned sigh, he took her hand and stood up.

They stopped first at a water pump Kid Blink located in a small courtyard between buildings, letting Jack get a drink and wash himself of the booze Allyson had doused him with. He knelt beneath the spout as Blink cranked the lever for him, scrubbing at his dark hair. It had almost been another fight to get him to let Blink man the lever in the first place, but after he realised that he couldn't wash off and pump the water at the same time he had relented. He eventually stood, shaking himself like a dog, hair whipped against his forehead when he finally looked up.

"Where we goin' to eat?" He was already looking brighter, eyes clearer and skin less dull, even his expression having lightened up.

Allyson jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "There's a shop we passed just across the way. I'll get something for you and bring it back."

She scurried over the hole-in-the-wall deli she had seen with its sign up and door opened, stepping up to the counter. The middle-aged man behind the till raised a bushy white eyebrow at her as she dropped all the change she had collected in her earlier sales onto the countertop.

"Whatever this'll get." She said, and the shop owner turned to the back of the countered area, returning a moment later with a limp but not unappetising sandwich with cuts of meat – she took it from him with a quick "thank you," before darting back out to the courtyard.

The two boys were sitting on the tops of some old-looking shipping crates that were piled in a small alcove, looking amiable even after all their fighting earlier. Jack perked up as Allyson held out the sandwich to him, taking it and scarfing it down immediately. Allyson took a seat on a crate by Blink's knee, kicking at the cobblestones of the yard.

"When was the last time you ate?" She asked, nose wrinkling as Jack tore into the foo with fervour she'd never really witnessed before. She was used to starved kids, but this was more than that.

Blink answered for him; " _Sunny's_ ain't really a food place. They'll keep you alive, but most of the folks they're serving there are happy t'live off booze and dope."

Halfway through the sandwich, Jack finally took a second from inhaling his food long enough to talk. "So how'd you's both end up in charge'a finding me?"

Blink answered before she could. "Allyson came down from the Bronx, looking for her brother. I offered to help."

"Hmm," Jack nodded, back to gorging himself. He continued to talk, though, forcing his words through his full mouth. "Y'know Dusty, then?"

Allyson nodded slowly. "Yeah, I mean, most people do, in the Bronx. He's a friend. Sort of."

Jack nodded, finally stuffing the last bit of the sandwich into his gob. Swallowing hard, he finally managed to say, "He's a good guy."

She wasn't sure how to respond to that, not wanting to disagree with Jack when he was finally starting to be friendly. She instead stuck with a neutral "yeah."

Jack wiped at his mouth hard with the back of his hand before he spoke again. "So, you wanted my help, huh?"

Allyson glanced to Blink, who half-shrugged. She turned to look back at the older boy. "Yeah, came all the way from the Bronx. Just to meet you."

Jack smiled smugly, and she could practically hear his ego grow as he sat back against the crates. "Well, I'm feelin' pretty generous – I wasn't lyin' before when I said I knew where your brother has gotten too. But, it ain't for sure."

"Okay."

"You ever been to Brooklyn?"

She shook her head 'no.' At the mention of Brooklyn, she could only think of the most prominent newsies she knew from there, horrified at the idea her younger brother could be with him. "You aren't going to send me to Spot Conlon, are you?"

Jack laughed dryly. "Pah, hardly. Though if ya don't watch yourself, you might run into him. You ever heard of Julia Capello?"

She shook her head again. Blink, however, looked surprised.

"You think he'd've gotten into Capello's hands?"

"Who is she?" Allyson's brow furrowed, concerned.

"She collects wayward children. Keeps them safe – a real mother duck type. Tries to keep 'em safe. The older ones she tried ta get jobs, but she's the sort that would probably find 'im."

Blink nodded, looking at Allyson encouragingly. "She practically has a sense for findin' kids who need protectin'. I just didn't think she'd be about in Manhattan."

Jack shrugged. "She's got a whole gaggle of girls under her, now. They keep an eye out in the other boroughs for her. Capello's practically got New York in her palm, y'know."

Allyson perked up. _Julia Capello._ She turned to Blink, smiling widely, which he mirrored. Finally, she felt like she was on the right track.

The three of them exited the restaurant into the late afternoon. Jack, though still a little unsteady on his feet, took the lead for the way back to the news square with enough confidence that one would never guess he'd been in a drunken stupor for the last week. Blink and Allyson hung back slightly as Jack proudly strutted ahead, looking every part the fabled Cowboy of Manhattan.

"You's and I gonna head off, first thing tomorrow," Blink said, leaning close and speaking in a quiet voice. She wasn't sure why he was practically whispering, but before she could ask, she noticed how his eye glinted with mischief. "But first, let's see Davey's face when Jack's back."

Allyson went to nod, but stopped herself. "I don't want to drag you around anymore than I have to, Blink. You don't have to come with me if you don't want me."

"What? No way." He grinned. "I can't let ya go on your own after all this – 'sides, I promised I wouldn't let ya get lost, and there's nowhere worse ta get lost in than Brooklyn."

She shook her head, but smiled slightly. "If you insist."

"Well, I do." He nudged her shoulder playfully, "we're friends now, remember? I got ya back."

Jack's return to the news square was dramatic without him even trying. There was a chorus of surprised and excited _Jack!_ 's that erupted as soon as he was within the line of sight of all the newsies taking their break before the evening edition was released. Immediately he was swarmed by everyone, wanting to know about where he'd been, what he'd been up to. At the front of it all was Racetrack and Les, clamoring to talk to him – Les excited to be reunited with his hero, Racetrack just to clap him on the shoulder and welcome him back. Blink and Allyson gave the group a wide breadth, passing them into the square.

Though it wasn't unexpected, Allyson was slightly surprised to find that David was hanging back from the crowd, leaning against the base of the statue in the center of the square. She had figured he maybe would have softened up to see his best friend returned – instead, he was glaring daggers in the general direction of Jack Kelly's head.

"Hey, Davey," Blink greeted cheerily. David acknowledged them with only a grunt, arms crossed firmly across his chest. Allyson joined him in leaning against the statue.

"Just so you know," she said, "I did give him your message."

"Which one?" He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"The 'go to hell' one. Maybe not in as many words, but I think it got across."

Davey gave a hoarse laugh. "Great."

"Y'know," Blink said as he joined them in leaning on Davey's other side. "You don't have to stay mad at him if you don't want."

Davey redirected his glare to Blink. "He broke my sister's heart."

Blink shrugged. "And y'know full well that he's gonna charm her heart right back together first chance he gets."

Davey ignored that, returning to glaring at Jack from across the way. Blink and Allyson exchanged shrugs, then Blink mouthed _he'll get over it._

The crowd slowly was moving back into the square, escorting Jack as they went. Blink quickly jogged over to stop and say hello to Mush, Allyson waving to Opera from where he and Rook were following Racetrack. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jack approach Davey, the curly-haired boy looking reluctant to greet him. Surprisingly, Jack looked guilty as he offered a hand to his friend. Cautiously, Davey took it, and then all at once, the two boys were clapping each other on the back, in the odd way boys always did, seeming to seal the deal that all wrongs were now righted. Blink came up beside her as she watched.

"See, told you he'd come around." He smirked.

"I didn't doubt you for a minute," she said, and was surprised that she really meant it.

The commotion lasted long enough to take the group into the twilight, and only when it was finally growing dark did the boys realise that they would maybe be best to bring their excitement indoors. Blink walked Allyson back to the factory building, and turned to her with a grin as they stopped under the fire escape.

"So, see you bright and early tomorrow?"

She nodded resolutely. "Of course."

He laughed, more to himself than for her. "One day you'll have to pay me back for all this tourin' I've been doin' for ya."

She shrugged. "After all this is done, you can come up to the Bronx one day. I'll gladly show you around."

"Sounds fair to me," he smiled. "'Night, Al."

And then he took off, leaving her to scale the building by herself.


	8. Chapter 8

As she took her first step onto the Brooklyn Bridge, Allyson realised she was the farthest she had ever been from the Bronx. She almost hesitated, suddenly seized by a strange fear that she was going through this alone. She had been to Harlem a few times before, and Manhattan a few times during the strike, but Brooklyn had always been this unreachable place, just on the periphery of her scope of the city. It may as well have been Europe, for how familiar it felt, and for how far she had to travel to get there. But any other time she had ventured beyond the borders of the Bronx, either Red or Doc, or one of her other friends would be by her side. Especially with the looming threat of possibly running into the infamously unfriendly Spot Conlon, she almost wanted to hightail back to her home borough, but she had to remind herself she wasn't truly alone.

Kid Blink was a few paces ahead of her, and he was looking back at her over his shoulder, wondering why she was slowing. "You's okay, Allyson?"

"Yeah," she said, looking out past the sides of the great, wide bridge. She could just barely see the East River spanning below the walkway, hundreds of feet below the center of the bridge. "Just nervous, I guess."

"Nervous a' what? Spot?" Blink laughed, earning a glare. He continued up the bridge's slight incline, Allyson picking up the pace to keep up with his long strides.

"No." She pulled her cap lower over her brow. The air was particularly cool that day, and she could feel her ears going numb. Winter didn't seem too far off, if someone cared to ask her. "I just can't swim."

Blink's eyebrows rose, amused. "What, you expect me to push ya off the edge?"

"No. Of course not." She looked up at the granite towers of the bridge. "Just worried something might happen, maybe it'll fall apart or something."  
"And what? We'll both die horribly?" He gave a low whistle. "Jeez, Al, you always this depressin', or have these last few days just been particularly tryin' for you?"

She ignored him, finally catching up to his stride so they were walking shoulder to shoulder. The bridge was all but deserted in the afternoon, only a few other people passing them as they made their way closer and closer to Spot's territory. It had been about twenty minutes of silence before Blink roughly pulled her to the side of the bridge, closer to the rail than she was comfortable with.

"What the hell, Blink?" She shook him off her shoulder.

He ignored her, then whispered, "See that boy over there?"

She peered passed him, seeing another kid around their age standing maybe ten feet away, nonchalantly leaning against the same side of the bridge. He was average in build and height, with dark skin and closely cropped black hair. He wore spectacles that caught the sunlight as he looked up. She resisted the urge to flinch as he noticed her staring, though he barely reacted. Disinterested, he turned his head to the side and casually spat over the ledge. She turned back to Blink. "What about him?"

"One of Spot's boys. Umpire – he ain't one'a the worst ones, but we gotta be careful. Can't be good."

She looked back to the kid, having a hard time believing he was one of Spot's boys. He didn't seem to fit the bill; the Brooklyn newsies Spot associated with were supposed to be all brawn and intimidation. This boy, Umpire, was a waif in comparison to what she had expected.

"We can take him." She rolled her shoulders, and Blink laughed.

"Or, we could just talk to him. No need to get in a fight with one of Spot's boys."

"You're the one acting like we'd have to square up to him."

"I'm sure that wouldn't be necessary," someone else interjected. Both turned to see that Umpire had somehow managed to creep up to their side. He raised his eyebrows at them when neither responded. "Well? Nothin' to say to an old friend?"

"Not sure 'friend' is quite the word I'd use," Blink said, spitting into his palm. Umpire mimicked the motion, and the two shook, Umpire not seeming to care about Blink's snarky remark, more interested in Allyson, who had been staring openly.

"This ya girl, Kid?" Allyson glared, and Umpire raised his hands defensively. "Alright, alright, I didn't mean nothin' by it. You just looked the sort."

"The sort?"

"I dunno, like…" Umpire waved his hand uselessly before giving up and shrugging. "Like a girl?"

"Waddaya want, Ump?" Blink lost his friendly tone. "You waitin' to bring us to Spot, or what?"

The boy laughed dryly. "Look, if I coulda known you's both were gonna turn up, I'd have ta be able to see the future. An' you an' I both know that if I could, I wouldn't be scrapin' by as a newsie." He shook his head wryly. "Nah, I ain't here for Spot. More like I'm here to warn folks like you's against goin' ta see 'im."

Allyson glanced to Blink, who shrugged slightly. "And why is that?"

Umpire shrugged, lifting his hands. "He's in a bad mood."

Blink scoffed. "Spot's always in a bad mood."

"Yeah, well this time it's real bad."

"Doesn't matter, we're not even here to see him." Allyson started to push Blink, wanting to head off. "We have important business with Julia Capello."

"Wouldn't recommend goin' to see her, neither," Umpire paused, spitting loudly onto the pavement. Allyson glanced down, seeing splattered chewing tobacco – she wrinkled her nose, but didn't allow herself to be distracted. "Y'see, she's the reason Spot's pissed."

Allyson huffed at the news, and started off, barely checking that Blink was following her. "Doesn't matter to me."

"Well, it should." Umpire jogged to keep up. "Whatever business you have with Julia is Spot's business."

Allyson shot him a scowl. "What are they, married?"

Blink chuckled, while Umpire looked uncomfortable. "They ain't."

"Don't sound so bitter," Blink clapped him on the back, "ya sound like you's jealous."

"No," Umpire snapped. "I ain't jealous. I am sick of folks thinkin' the two of 'em actually _like_ each other. I've seen 'em, they hate each other's guts."

Allyson and Blink exchanged a look, but Umpire continued, irate.

"They fight like cats and dogs. But no one believes me. And now she's pissed him off real awful. You's can't go see her. If he finds out anyone's around, you don't wanna know what'll happen."

The trio was stopped by a loud, melodramatic sigh from behind them. They turned to see a pretty blonde girl walk toward them – they had passed her without even noticing her, despite the bright red skirt she wore. She had a mockingly sympathetic look on her face as she regarded Umpire, hands on her wide hips. She was ideally curvy, and Allyson suddenly felt self-conscious with her own boyish figure. At the same time, though the girl was pretty, she did not look friendly. Umpire cowered under her scrutiny.

"Aw, if it isn't my favourite Umpire." She smiled, though it reminded Allyson more of the snarl a dog made before it attacked.

"Rosie!" Blink said, and the girl turned to look at him.

"Blink?" Her mouth formed a perfect 'o' shape. Blink smiled at her, and the two walked toward each other, meeting in an embrace. "God, I haven't seen you in forever!"

"Didja miss me?" They stood apart, clasping arms still. Allyson looked over to Umpire, trying to see if he understood how the girl and Blink knew each other, but he looked as surprised as she did.

Blink turned back to Allyson, waving her over. "Rosie, this is my friend, Allyson. You's just the girl we needed – we're goin' to see Julia."

Allyson stepped forward cautiously, Rosie regarded her coldly. Rosie was at least half a foot taller than her, and her light blue eyes were almost the same colour as Blink's, but where his had a certain warmth to it, hers were piercing and unyielding. She realised that Blink looked like he could be her brother, if only that his hair was a darker colour. Rosie's eyes narrowed, but put out her hand to shake. "Hi."

Cautiously, as though afraid the taller girl would bite, she shook her hand, Rosie's grip so tight that Allyson was sure that, if the girl so desired, she would easily be able to cleanly pull her arm out of her shoulder. Rosie gave her a thin-lipped smile, then turned back to Blink.

"What's your business with Julia?" She had relaxed completely, smiling genuinely at Blink, and very pointedly pretending Allyson wasn't there. "I'll take you to her."

"It's actually Allyson," he said, pointing to her. Rosie's face dropped, but she recovered quickly before he noticed.

"Oh." She brushed her pin-straight hair behind her shoulders. "Well, still."

Umpire stomped his foot indignantly from where he stood forgotten, not unlike a child throwing a tantrum. "Ya can't bring them to her!"

"What are you, Ump, the bulls? The President?" She sneered. "Or is that ol' Spot who's in charge? I've forgotten."

Umpire gritted his teeth, fists balled up as he shoved them into his pockets. "Go suck an egg, Rosie."

She pouted, and if it were possible, Umpire's teeth clenched harder.

"Oh, boohoo." She said dismissively. "Go tell your keeper whatever you want. Spot doesn't scare me."

"Fine." Umpire spat again, the gob of tobacco splattering by Rosie's shoes. She didn't flinch. "I'm off. Have fun dealing with _him_ later."

"Yeah, yeah," she waved him off, "I'll tell Zoe you said hi."

Umpire's shoulders tensed, but he didn't stop walking, pointedly ignoring Rosie.

They watched as he left, storming down the bridge back towards Brooklyn.

Rosie faked a yawn. "Well, that was exciting."

"No need to be so mean, Rosie," Blink said, but she only shrugged in response.

"C'mon, you want to see Julia or not?"

* * *

Though they had only known each other for about a half hour, Allyson could tell Rosie really didn't like her. Which, considering her track record so far that day for making good impressions, she wasn't really surprised about it – except that she hadn't done anything to make Rosie not like her. That she was aware of.

Their destination was past the warehouses and shipping yards, deeper into a nice-looking residential area. The streets were busy with young children playing on the streets, looking more well-dressed and well-fed than Allyson ever had been in her life.

"Why're we heading into a rich area?"

Rosie grunted in response, but Blink said, "Julia's pretty well off."

Allyson's brow furrowed. She never trusted rich people; they only ever wanted to find a way to make a buck out of something. She wanted to voice her distrust, but Blink apparently trusted Julia, and though Rosie was not shaping up to be her favourite person, she didn't seem like the deceitful sort. More like the type to hit you square in the face.

The house Rosie led them to was a corner unit at the end of the street, with children playing on the street in front of it, though there were a number more, and the children did not look as well-to-do as the others they had passed by. There were a few boys, maybe eight years old, playing with jacks, while off to the side there were a handful of girls closer to eleven years old skipping from flagstone to flagstone on the short strip of lawn in front of the house. There was an older girl sitting on the front stoop, who perked up at the sight of Rosie.

"Ah, Rosie, my dear! We had thought you'd run off to bloody your knuckles." The girl spoke with a floaty English accent. Her dark brown hair was pinned up sensibly, and her heart-shaped face was heavily smattered with freckles. She smiled at the blonde girl, but there was no friendliness to it.

Rosie sneered at the English girl. "I'm surprised to see you out here, Elizabeth. I had expected to find you warming some dock-worker's bed."

The two girls stared intensely at one another, as though daring the other to look away. Allyson now realised that if Rosie hated her, at least she hated this Elizabeth girl more.

"Ladies, really, that's enough." A second girl hopped over the tiny fence that parted the lawn of the house from the road, coming to stand between the two. She smiled devilishly, and behind her, Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "We have guests!"

"They're here for Julia, Bea." Rosie pushed past, and though she stumbled back, Bea hopped back into place. Her skin was a lovely warm shade of brown, and her long, deep-brown hair fell over her shoulder in a braid. Her grin hadn't fallen when she turned to face the newcomers.

"Of course, people only ever come here to see Julia. Although," she pointed her chin at Blink, "I recognise you! Weren't you a beau of Rosie's a while back?"

"No," Rosie snapped, her blue eyes glinting with annoyance. "He wasn't, Bea, and it wouldn't kill you to shut up."

Bea rolled her eyes, then turned to Allyson, sweeping into a low bow. "Beatrice Van Der Beek, at your service."

Elizabeth stood up from the porch, walking up to Bea's side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "And I'm Elizabeth Combs. Though, Beatrice, you really must not be so dramatic."

Bea waved her hand dismissively. "It's just a bit of fun, Liz. No need to have a fit."

"Uh, Allyson Dean. Nice to meet you both."

At the door of the house, Rosie cleared her throat loudly. She gestured for them to follow her as she entered, so they did, with Bea tailing behind.

The front room of the house was not as grand as Allyson had expected, though there was a fairly large photo framed on the wall across from the door, a portrait of a family of three. The woman and her daughter in the photo were almost identical, both with the same pale skin and high cheek bones under their sheets of brown curls, and their full lips were both forming the same small smile. While the woman looked identical to her daughter, the girl's eyes were mirrors to her father's, who stood over her left shoulder, sporting an impressive mustache. To the right of the portrait was a dark-wood staircase, and to the left, a simple door was propped open into the house. Under the photo was a small table with an empty vase on top, and aside from that, there was no other décor. Rosie headed toward the door to the left of the room.

"She's in the dining room."

The door led into a short, clean hallway, with about three doors on each wall. Allyson noted the lack of decoration in the hallway, same as the other room, though she noticed nails in the wall where frames may have previously been hung, but other than those, there were no hints of the adornment she had expected on the white walls. Rosie turned into the first doorway on the right, where they could hear soft voices coming from.

The room was taken up by a large wooden table, at which sat three girls. One looked only to be about six years old, and was playing with a rag doll and a teacup. The other two were around the same age as Allyson, and she immediately recognised the girl sitting at the head of the table from the portrait in the other room. In front of her, she was flipping through a notebook, a fountain pen and inkwell at arm's reach. Sitting to her right was another girl who looked up, eyebrows raised, though she didn't say anything.

The portrait girl barely looked up. "Ah, Rosie. Nice to see you've returned to us without wearing someone else's blood."

Though she had snapped at the girl outside for similar remarks, Rosie kept quiet, her lips thinning into a tight line.

"Who are they?" The girl asked, scribbling something into her book, still not looking up.

"Allyson and Kid Blink. From Manhattan," Rosie answered.

"I'm from the Bronx, actually," Allyson corrected, earning an annoyed look from Rosie.

"Julia. Pleasure." She was still distracted with her book, crossing something out in her notes. "What can I help you with, Allyson and Kid Blink?"

Julia looked up again, speaking clearly with a voice beyond her years. From another person, Allyson may have found her clear annunciations and overly-proper tone to be obnoxious, but Julia's clear voice fit it perfectly. She held Allyson's gaze with the most crystalline eyes she had ever seen, such a light shade of green they barely hand any colour at all. The portrait had done them no favours in capturing their intensity, though now they were red-rimmed, as though she had been crying not long ago. Allyson felt a jolt of nerves pass through her, realising that she was finally on the right track, that she had finally found her ticket to Teddy.

She took a deep breath. "I'm looking for my brother. He's ten."

"You've come to the right place, though we are a far way off from the Bronx. What is his name?"

"Theodore Dean. It may be a long way from the Bronx, but he wasn't there – he left to explore Manhattan. "

Allyson explained that she suspected that Teddy had gone to find his hero, Jack, and how Jack had led them to find her. Julia and her friend shared a glance, silently communicating through their eyes. Finally, Julia turned back to Allyson. "I don't know if I have heard that name recently, though I can ask my friend who would remember – Rosie, could you be so kind and fetch Zoe?"

With a huff, Rosie turned and left the room. Julia's eyes followed her as she left. Bea glided to the other side of the room, collapsing into one of the chairs at the grand table.

"She wasn't unkind to you on your way here, was she?"

"Not at all!" Blink smiled blithely, though Allyson responded only with a glance to Julia, who pursed her lips. Bea laughed.

"Don't mind her, she can be a bitch." She said lightly, the young girl across the table from her looking up with wide eyes. The girl beside Julia looked aghast.

"Beatrice! Language," her voice was heavy with disappointment. Even with her reprimanding tone, the girl had a soft voice, with the slightest of accents Allyson could not quite place.

"Sorry, Gabrielle, but you know it's true."

The girl, Gabrielle, shook her head, muttering something in another language.

Rosie quickly returned to the room, a younger girl trailing behind her. Her skin was a deep brown, and her glossy black hair was pulled back into a tight bun, though many of her curls were escaping its hold. The two girls took seats at the table, and Julia gestured for Blink and Allyson to join them.

"Abigail," she addressed the youngest girl at the table, "go find Frances and play outside."

The child nodded, picking up her doll and leaving the room without protest. Allyson took her seat where the teacup was left behind. Blink sat beside her, across from Rosie.

Once they had settled, Julia turned to the new girl. "Zoe here is a liaison of sorts with our friends in Manhattan. She did tell me of a young boy she encountered earlier this week, who did come from the Bronx – possibly, he could be your brother."

Allyson looked at Zoe, who smiled kindly at her. She didn't seem at all confused at the topic at hand, meaning that Rosie must have filled her in before they arrived. "He was maybe ten at the most, but short. And had brown hair – now that I see you though, I could guess you both are related. He could be your brother."

She was at least a few years younger than the rest of the group, but she had an air of maturity about her that made her place at the table seem natural. Allyson traced her finger along the fragile stem of the teacup's handle as she bolstered the courage to ask, afraid of bad news.

"Did you get his name?"

Zoe shook her head slowly, as though she was sorry to disappoint. "He didn't tell me his real name, but he called himself Spinner. He seemed like any other newsie, but was more than happy to come with me when I promised to take him somewhere safe."

"Spinner?" Allyson was surprised. "That's what I used to be called."

Julia rested her chin on her hand. "Well, that seems to secure him as being your brother. He would know about the nickname, correct?"

Allyson nodded, and Zoe raised a hand slightly, as though they were in a classroom rather than seated at a dining table.

"He had mentioned having an older sister, but when I asked him where she was, he refused to tell me." She again, looked apologetic as she looked back at Allyson. "I took him somewhere I knew he'd be safe and that I could find him easily if I needed to."

Allyson took the teacup in hand, still tracing it. It was so small, the porcelain so thin in her hands. The outside rim was painted with pretty little violets circling the base of the cup. Julia watched her carefully as she held the china, but said nothing. "Where is he?"

"With my brother."

Julia whirled to face her suddenly. "Zoe…"

"I knew you wouldn't like it, Julia, but I trust him."

Julia's jaw tensed. She took a deep breath, before continuing. "It's not your brother, Zoe. It's Spot I'm worried about."

Zoe shook her head. "William promised he'd take care of him."

"Wait," Allyson interjected, "who's your brother? He works with Spot?"

Across the table, Rosie laughed lightly. She looked more amused than Allyson believed appropriate. "You met him earlier today." – Allyson's mind was blank, – "You know, Umpire?"

It took a moment for it to fully sink in. Umpire had her brother. He was who was entrusted with Teddy – she had been so close to the person who could have led her to him, and she hadn't even known.

Allyson grasped the small china teacup so tightly she could almost hear it creak in protest. Julia's eyes widened in horror, as did Gabrielle and Zoe's as they realised that Allyson may shatter the cup against the table. Across the table, Rosie's eyebrows rose, though she looked as though she was anticipating the scene that the teacup would cause.

"Please do not break that, it's an antique from my great-grandmother's house in Rome." Julia's voice was no longer the weightless, clear one from before, her words strained. She looked ready to leap up and snatch the cup from Allyson's hands.

Allyson carefully placed the teacup back down on the table. Beside her, Blink said, "it seems strange that you's would let a child play with somethin' you value so much."

The corners of Bea's mouth quirked up in a barely hidden smile. The rest of the girls ignored him, returning to the discussion at hand as though nothing had happened.

"Would you be able to retrieve Teddy, Zoe?" Julia's voice was back to being unshakeable. Zoe bit her lip.

"Well, usually yes, but after yesterday – "Julia glared severely at Zoe, a nerve having obviously been struck, and the younger girl ducked her head in shame. Rosie straightened up, leaning forward to block her younger friend.

"Look," the blonde cut in, "you're the one who decided to pick a fight with Conlon. You're the reason he's on edge right now. When I ran into Umpire earlier, he seemed convinced that all of Brooklyn was going to be burnt to the ground."

Julia and Rosie were both glaring at each other, both refusing to flinch away. Gabrielle cleared her throat gently, and their attention turned to her.

"Perhaps," she started, her voice as soft as before, though she did not cower under Julia's scrutiny, "we should apologise."

Julia sat back heavily in her seat, slumping in a very un-ladylike fashion, blowing a strand of hair from her face. "I did nothing that I need to apologise for."

"You were not particularly kind to him," Gabrielle pointed out, though seemed too scandalized to repeat what she had heard.

"He called me a whore!" Julia's eyes welled up with tears, and Rosie sighed loudly, standing up from her seat.

"Well, princess, you spend enough time helping whores, you're going to be called one." Rosie didn't meet anyone's eye as she turned and left the room. She was certain she was mistaken, but Allyson could have sworn that Rosie looked more upset than Julia in that moment.

Julia took a moment to compose herself, drawing a shaky breath. "Fine. I will speak to him."

"Speak to who?" Everyone turned to find Elizabeth standing in the doorway of the dining room, her hand half raised as though to knock on the doorframe. She didn't wait for a response to her question before she addressed Julia, saying, "Spot is here to see you."


	9. Chapter 9

Julia nearly bolted from the room, a nearly furious expression on her face. She gathered her skirt in her hands as she blew out through the door, Elizabeth stepping out of her way as she passed. Gabrielle quickly followed, looking much like someone who was preparing themselves for refereeing a screaming match. Bea, who had looked intrigued as soon as Elizabeth arrived hopped up to follow as well. Only Zoe remained seated, an uncomfortable look on her face.

Blink and Allyson followed Elizabeth out onto the lawn, but Allyson noticed Rosie sitting on the bottom steps of the house's hardwood stairs. She donned a cat-like smile when she saw Allyson, and gestured for her to come over.

"Temper, temper, Allyson," Rosie said in a sing-song, ignoring the procession out the front door. "Honestly, I wouldn't have pinned you as the sort to go around smashing other people's fine china. But I've been wrong before."

Rosie grinned in amusement, and Allyson decided it was more terrifying than when she had been angry.

"I didn't intend to break anything, and I didn't do it, anyway." Allyson looked away nervously, and Rosie laughed drily.

"Don't lie. You wanted to shatter it, didn't you? You could have." Rosie's eyes twinkled in delight. "You could be surprisingly entertaining, maybe if we got you riled enough."

Before she could try to deny it, Blink grasped Allyson's wrist, giving her a light tug toward the door. Rosie glanced at it, then looked away, the unfriendly air back in place. Allyson pulled out of his grasp.

"C'mon Allyson, we should go see this," Blink said mischievously. He looked to Rosie. "You should come, too."

Rosie shook her head, still looking away. "No thanks. It's just Spot and Julia – it'll be the same as ever."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, then walked casually out of the foyer.

Allyson stopped for a second, unsure of whether she should say something to the girl, or follow Blink out, but Rosie settled it with a glare. She skittered out away, not even trying to not look like a scared dog as she made her escape.

Outside, a whole crowd had gathered. The children who had before been playing on the street were crowded around the legs of a young man who wore bright red suspenders and carried a cane. Behind him were five other street boys, including Umpire. The children looked excited to see the boy with the suspenders, some of the smaller ones asking for him to pick them up as he made his way toward the front porch where Julia stood. Flanking her were Gabrielle and a short, dark-haired girl Allyson had not yet met.

"Spot."

"Well, if it isn't the angel a'Brooklyn," Spot said, voice dripping with condescension. Julia looked annoyed.

"This is my house, Conlon. You came here to see me, if I recall."

Spot looked unperturbed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the fence post. The children were still swarming him, begging for him to play with them, apparently oblivious of the tension between Julia and Spot.

"I've come so ya could apologise to me, Jules," Spot drawled, regarding her coolly.

Julia bristled. "Apologise to _you_? You insulted me!"

Before Spot could snap back, Gabrielle stepped away from Julia's right hand, sighing gently.

"Spot," her voice was soothing as she walked down from the porch. Spot allowed her to clasp her hands over his. "Why don't you come in? I'm sure this can be brought inside for discussion." She looked back at Julia. "I believe – if I may be so frank – that apologies may be in order on both sides."

Spot looked wooed momentarily, a calm smile crossing his face. "Ah, Gabrielle. Always tha' voice of reason."

She dipped her head, but Spot's face hardened as he looked back to Julia. His eyes looked over the faces of everyone standing on the porch behind her. He lingered for a second on her and Blink, before "But I ain't here t'sit and have tea. I'm here for an apology, and then I'm off."

Julia tensed, her hands were folded behind her back, opening and closing as though she was imagining them wrapped around Spot's throat.

"Fine," she said bitterly, still as a statue. The girl beside her, though she had assumed the same rigid posture, looked uncomfortable as she watched the amused grin curl up the corners of Spot's lips. "I suppose I'm sorry."  
"You suppose? Or you are?" Spot nearly snarled. Beside him Gabrielle couldn't hide her frustration. "Too proud to admit you were wrong?"

"What I said before was honest," she huffed, eyes narrowing cruelly. "I may not have been kind, but I was accurate."

Spot sneered at that. "Well, I can say the same for what I said, then."

There was a moment of weighted silence as everyone held their breath, even the children having backed away nervously, all waiting for Spot or Julia to move. Spot was first to turn, ready to leave back the way he'd come from, but surprised everyone when he looked over his shoulder. "'Ey, Blink. You comin' with me."

The girls all turned to look at Blink, who didn't look surprised at Spot's demand, but also didn't look happy about it. He glanced to Allyson, the emotion she saw in his good eye something similar to unease. She started to back away, but Spot saw, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, bring ya girl, too," Spot added, and Allyson forced herself not to duck away at the acknowledgment of her existence.

Without making a fuss, Blink met Spot by the fence, Allyson following as she was told to. She hated to admit to it, but Spot was extremely intimidating. The way he looked at her with his grey eyes set her on edge, as though he could read her mind. Her feet felt leaden as she crossed the porch. As she passed, Julia gave her a meaningful look, though Allyson could not decipher it, and couldn't dwell on it long, Spot already impatiently waiting for her to join the boys as they left.

Reluctantly, Allyson followed the boys down the road. Blink had been caught up in a conversation with Spot, having left her toward the rear of the small band. She decided, then, that she needed to speak with Umpire, and sought him out.

He gave her a sidelong glance. "Told ya you's would have to deal with Spot."

"Where's my brother, Umpire?"

The boy narrowed his eyes at her, as though to help him understand what she was asking. "Who?"

"His name's Teddy." Umpire started to turn away, but Allyson grabbed his arm, making him listen. "The little boy, called himself Spinner? Your sister passed him off to you?" Recognition dawned on the Brooklynite's face, and he shushed her harshly.

"Yeah, I got 'im," he whispered, pulling his arm away. "Didn't know he was ya brother, but I got him."

"Where is he?"

Umpire looked at her like she was an idiot. "I don't know."

"What?" He clamped hand over her mouth, her outburst already drawing the attention of the other boys around them. They snickered when they saw him muffling her, turning back to their own conversations.

"Quiet! You can't let Spot know. I ain't even supposed to talk to my sister right now."

Allyson wanted to say that seemed like a stupid thing to be told you couldn't do, even by Spot, but Umpire's expression told her there was nothing in the world he took more seriously than Spot's word. She shoved him off of her, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. "You said you had him!"

"I did!" Umpire pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose indignantly. "He just… got away is all."

Allyson was seconds from taking a swing at Umpire's bespectacled face, when she remembered what Rosie had said. Something deep inside her told her not to give the blonde girl the satisfaction, even if she wasn't there to see – she forced herself to jam her balled fists into her pockets.

"Where was he?" she spat, bitterly realising that there was no one competent enough to watch a child in all of New York.

"I left him with my cousin who works at a stable," Umpire's mouth screwed up like he'd tasted something sour, "but he ran off." He saw her stony expression. "Couldn'ta gotten far, though, it was only this morning I dropped 'im off."

"Take me there. I'll find him," she demanded, but Umpire shook his head, laughing hollowly.

"Ya think you's would be able to find him, Bronx? Don't be dense." He pointed back behind them, challenging her. "Could ya even find ya way back ta Julia's?"

She clenched her teeth, looking back at the road they'd come up. They were no longer in the nice residential district with all its little fenced yards – they were passing through a street of shipping warehouses, not far off from the docks. She hadn't the faintest idea how they'd gotten there, or even how she would get back.

"Fine," she snapped, turning back to face him, "you have a point. So what do you propose?"

"I find 'im, obviously." He crossed his arms over his chest triumphantly. "I know Brooklyn like the back of my hand."

"If there's even a scratch on him," she threatened, but he brushed her off, unfazed.

"There won't be. Not that I did to 'im, anyway." His glasses glinted as he looked up at the afternoon sun. "This time tomorrow, ya little brother'll be safe and sound with you. Deal?"

They both spat into their hands, agreeing on their contract. Spot's voice cut through the group – "You two, stop schemin'."

Umpire jumped out of his skin, then jogged up to meet Spot's pace. Blink fell back, bumping shoulders with Allyson as they walked.

"What're you two up to?" His tone was surprisingly suspicious. "Please tell me you's ain't gonna get us in trouble."

"Could you even get in trouble with Spot? Seems like you two are pretty good pals." Blink shrugged.

"What can I say, I have a lot of friends."

"I can see that." She tried to ignore him, but couldn't help but smile back. Then, remembered his question. "Umpire is going to get Teddy for me."

Blink seemed mildly impressed. "Didn't think Umpire was the type to do anything that didn't help himself."

She followed his gaze to the back of Umpire's head, where he was still chatting with Spot. For someone so close to the Brooklyn leader, he was extremely nervous around him. None of the other boys appeared as terrified of their leader, exuding the same cool, critical air as their leader. At the moment, Umpire seemed to be listening intently to whatever Spot was saying, head bobbing like a shaken toy as he agreed. She couldn't help but notice that despite his exuberance, his hands were trembling where they were clasped behind his back.

"Ass-kisser," Blink muttered, however Allyson wasn't sure he meant for her to hear.

"Well, he shook on it," she said, matter-of-factly. "If he backs down, he'll have me to answer to."

He didn't say anything in reply. Instead, he turned to look at the warehouses they passed.

"Do you know where we are?"

Blink shook his head. "To tell ya the truth, I've only been to Brooklyn once before, and it was a long while ago."

She lifted an eyebrow. "So you had no idea where Julia's place was?"

He shrugged easily. "I figured we'd run into someone – I have a lot of friends in high places, y'know?"

She shook her head in disbelief. She had thought she was finally getting used to Blink's easy-going attitude, but he still managed to surprise her. She thought of Red, back in the Bronx, who always took things in stride, as though nothing phased him. She had thought Blink was laidback like Red, but he was far more careless, as though he was certain that luck would always be on his side. She suddenly realised that easy-going wasn't the right word.

"You're too headstrong for your own good, Blink," she said. "What if we hadn't been found by Rosie? We'd still be wandering looking for Julia right now, I'd wager."

"Yeah, well," Blink said, sounding just a little bitter, "does it matter? Since we _did_ find Rosie, and we _did_ see Julia, and you _have_ found your brother. Everythin's worked out. So looks like I was right." He shot her one of his disarmingly charming smiles, and she faltered, struggling to keep her scolding look on her face. "You gotta trust your instincts."

Content with his interpreted victory, he nodded to himself, and started patting down his pockets. She realised he was looking for a smoke, and offered him one of her own. "Thanks," he said, but she pulled it out of his reach.

"I don't think what you're following are instincts exactly. You're going to get us in trouble."

He looked into her eyes seriously, as if trying to find something in them. His one blue eye was steady as he stared, and she felt her cheeks redden. Then plainly, he said, "you's the only one who's gotten us in trouble so far, Al."

His fingers brushed hers as he grabbed the cig, and she recoiled involuntarily. He chuckled to himself as he lit up, and she found herself watching her feet the rest of the walk.

The group wound its way, finally, into an old warehouse right by the waterside, a pier jutting into the water by the building's side, where boats would arrive with their cargo. The dock, however, was empty of ships, the warehouse looking as though it hadn't been taken care of in ages. Around the building there were twenty or so boys lounging about. The weather had turned balmy in the late afternoon, a stark change from earlier, and the fresh air coming off the water was too cool for autumn – Allyson wanted to shed her jacket, but didn't want to lose it, though it was suddenly too warm for it. Many of the Brooklyn newsies were down to their undershirts, pant legs rolled up to their knees. Down the pier, there were a few boys jumping off the walkway, diving into the water. The ones near the entrance perked up when they saw Spot approaching, and followed him as he lead the group into the warehouse.

The building was in need of some serious repairs. There was one large hole in the roof, where the tin roof had collapsed into itself, the skeleton of the structure visible against the blue sky above. The warehouse was filled still with crates, though they were mostly opened, either by their owners or the newsies, Allyson couldn't tell. Piles of empty palettes were propped in the corners, and Spot hoisted himself up onto one, perching above everyone else. His newsies swarmed him, asking for what had happened at Julia's – Allyson only listened long enough to learn that he was embellishing the situation liberally, claiming Julia had begged him for forgiveness. She rolled her eyes, wandering off to peer into some nearby crates, wondering what they had held before they were looted.

Umpire passed by, stopping momentarily to address her. "I'm off. I'll be back with ya brother."

She barely glanced up at him, but could practically feel his impatience rolling off of him. "Do you all sleep here?"

Umpire's nose wrinkled. "Of course not! Ya think we's rats or somethin'? We just hang out here when it gets cold."

She shrugged, and wished him good luck. "Tell Teddy I'm here."

Umpire left without another word, disappearing out the same door they had all come in through. She tried not to think about what Blink had said about Umpire being self-serving, hoping that despite that, he would help her. She knew though, that his help would come with a price – she remembered her favour owed to Rook – and hoped that soon, she could stop being indebted to everyone she met.

She sat at the edge of the dock, knees tucked up to her chin. She was worried that if she let her toes dangle into the water, someone would grab her by the foot and pull her in, which was not something she wanted to experience.

Minutes after Umpire had taken off, there was a procession back outdoors, since everyone had seemingly decided that it was high time for a swim.

She had followed them out, only because she didn't want to be left indoors alone. She couldn't swim, and certainly didn't want to so much as entertain the idea while she was surrounded by so many strange boys, so she had shucked her jacket, dropping it to the dock, and sat on top of it, anchoring herself to the spot.

She heard the dull sound of feet hitting the wooden slats of the pier as someone ran up it, and was startled when someone suddenly launched themselves off the dock only a foot away from her. She raised her arms to deflect the water that splashed up when the boy cannonballed into the depths, but it was no use, as the front of her shins were soaked.

She had prepared herself to yell, but Blink bobbed up from the dark water, a mischievous grin on his face. She noticed he was completely unclothed aside from his underdrawers, and quickly averted her eyes, fixing on the nearest wooden post of the dock.

"Jeez, Blink, you could have scared me to death."

He laughed loudly, and she glanced back. She felt something bubble in her chest as she took in the shape of his collarbone. It wasn't the first time she'd seen a boy without a shirt on – living with Red, Twist and the others made sure of that – but they were like brothers to her. Blink was a stranger. Or something. _A friend_ , she reminded herself, jaw clenching, and forced her eyes back to the post.

Blink looked up at her from the water. "Aw, don't look so miserable, Allyson."

"I'm not," she said, more forcefully than she meant. She forced away her embarrassment, looking straight at Blink.

He gave her a pitying look, and swam closer, near enough he could drag her in if he wanted. "It's so nice though! Don't ya wanna swim?"

She eyed the water suspiciously. Even if the air was warm now, it was still October – she suspected the water was freezing, though Blink's face didn't betray him if he was lying.

"I already told you I can't," she shook her head, hugging her knees closer to her, as he came up to the dock, bracing both hands against the ledge.

"I can teach you," he offered, but she shook her head furiously. "C'mon, you'll like it, promise!"

She scooted back slightly, away from his hands. He noticed, looking slightly offended, but mostly amused at her nervousness. "I ain't gonna pull ya in, Allyson. Don't ya trust me?"

"Aren't you worried your patch will fall off?" She asked, changing the subject. He looked surprised, reaching up to tug at the piece of fabric covering the left side of his face, letting it snap back at though to show her it was secure.

"Ya worried you's gonna have ta see my real face, huh?" He laughed, though the sound was slightly bitter.

"No," she said, "I'm more worried that you're going to lose it, then _you'll_ be too ashamed of yourself to walk home to Manhattan. Then we'll be stuck here forever."

She had meant it as a joke, but he frowned, considering her words. For a moment, she thought that maybe she had upset him. Instead, without a word she watched as he undid the tie at the back of his head, and handed the eyepatch to her.

"Take good care of it for me, then?" He grinned again, his left eye shut tight. She nodded, still surprised, taking the patch and holding it close, and he dove away.

She watched the surface of the water, half expecting Blink to pop back up. She tried to ignore the disappointment she felt when he didn't – she wanted to ask him something. The eyepatch was old and worn, the fabric of it so soft she couldn't tell what it was made of, either leather or something as thick. The ends of the ties were frayed, the She wondered how old it was, how long he had been wearing it. She started to try to wring it out, though it seemed hopeless, the small piece of fabric twisted between her hands barely dripping, the thick material capturing the water within it.

"I would be careful with that, if I was you," someone said behind her, their voice a cool drawl.

Allyson whirled, surprised to see Spot approaching. Unlike the rest of his boys, he was still fully dressed, red suspenders strapped over his shoulders, cane hooked through the buckle of one side. He was looking at the patch clutched in her hands, an inquisitive look in his light gray eyes. His hair, longer than she had expected, having only previously seen him wearing a hat, was dirty blonde, and fell over his forehead. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"That Blink's patch?" She nodded, not trusting her words to answer. "He needs his girl to watch his things, does he?"

"I'm not his girl," she said, almost mumbling. She balled the eyepatch into the palm of her hand. "I only met him the other day."

Spot rolled his eyes at her. "Wouldn't be the first time that Blink captured a girl's heart that quickly."

She glared at him, not sure what he meant.

"You didn't know?" Spot smirked. "Blink's a bit of a ladies' man."

"I knew." She glared weakly at him, but felt, for a moment, that her heart had grown heavier. She pushed the feeling away though, turning back to the open water. "Good thing we're just friends, then."

Spot easily dropped down onto the dock's edge, sitting next to her. She glanced back at him, noticing his peculiar look, as though he was trying to figure something out.

"I know that y'know who I am," he started, grey eyes unwavering as he examined her face, "but who're you?"

"Allyson." She unraveled the patch from her hands, flattening it across her knees.

"Where ya from, Allyson?" He said her name like it was something important. "You ain't one of Jackie boys', eh?"

"I'm from the Bronx."

Spot made an unsurprised noise, which annoyed Allyson. She didn't care for Spot, she decided, the way he made himself to be unflappable, though she was certain it was just a front.

"One'a Dusty's then?" Spot's tone was more interrogative than curious, though she knew she wouldn't provide him any interesting information no matter how much he pried. Mostly because there wasn't anything of interest to learn.

"Close enough," she shrugged. Though she didn't identify with being a part of Dusty's boys, who were all from the lodging house, but because Red was Dusty's best friend, and the small bunch of them that stuck with Red usually got lumped in with his lot.

Spot quirked an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate. When she didn't, he harrumphed. "Don't like to talk much, huh?"

"You could say that."

Spot was quiet for a moment, leaning forward to pull off his shoes. He set them to the side, neatly lining up the heels, then pulled off his socks, jamming them into the toe, and then he leisurely dipped his feet into the dark water below. She thought for a moment, nervous about what he would ask her next, as though she were being interrogated. She hated the feeling of dread he conjured in her. Before she could stop it, words were spilling out of her mouth, asking a question of her own.

"Why do you not get along with Julia?"

Spot gave her a warning look, telling her without words that he was the one asking questions. She quietly took a deep breath, telling herself not to be afraid. He was just another boy. He realised she wasn't as frightened, and his shoulders sagged. He looked out at the water, and she noticed his eyes were the same colour as the sky at the horizon.

"I don't like her," he started, grumbling, "because she's a spoiled, goody-goody princess. And she's always flauntin' that she's so damn _wonderful_."

His answer didn't actually surprise her – it was as much as she had expected from him, after seeing his behaviour earlier at Julia's house. However, she felt suddenly like he was far less threatening than she had always been led to believe, his explanation making him sound like a whiney child.

"So, you don't like her because she has money?" Allyson ran her hands over the eyepatch again. "Because she tries to help people, you don't like her?"

"She thinks she's better than everyone else," he said matter-of-factly, giving Allyson a look like she was stupid. "Ya don't know her like I do. What's it matter to you, anyway, Bronx?"

She shrugged, as nonchalantly as she could manage. "Just wondering. I didn't think that the great leader of Brooklyn would be bothered much by just a girl."

Spot's eyes narrowed. "She ain't just a girl," he mumbled, then stood, regarding her with an even look, despite the growly tone of his voice. "For someone who doesn't talk much, Allyson, ya sure ask a lot of questions."

She watched as he pulled himself up, jammed his feet back into his shoes and set off back toward the warehouse, swinging his gold-topped cane as he went. She nodded to herself, silently reaffirming her earlier conclusion – she was definitely not a fan of Spot's. She was startled, for the second time that day, by Blink when he hoisted himself out of the water to sit on the dock beside her.

"Well, y'sure know how ta make friends," Blink said, voice straining as he tried not to laugh. He rubbed vigorously at his hair with his hands, water droplets flying everywhere. He looked up at her, left eye still shut tight, his dark blonde hair sticking up at odd angles. Wordlessly she passed him back the eye patch.

"You think I pissed him off?" Allyson asked drily.

Blink tied his patch back around his head. He was dripping wet, and she tried to scoot away, though the damage was already done.

He shrugged. "I'd say annoyed is the better word, though don't let him catch ya saying that."

She scoffed. "Who knew Spot, leader of all of Brooklyn, would have such thin skin?"

"Eh, he doesn't usually," Blink kicked at the water with his feet. "Just when it comes to girls. Don't think he's used to them – all he knows to do is fight with them."

"And you're the expert on what to do with girls, hmm?"

He gave her a confused look.

"Spot told me you were a 'ladies' man,'" She said. Blink snorted loudly.

"Yeah, some would say that. Not to say I ain't never been with a girl," He said mischievously, and Allyson wrinkled her nose, deciding not to think about that too deeply. But then his expression turned surprisingly grave. "Y'know, doesn't matter how many girls ya can get ta give ya a chance – in my case, the good looks don't hurt, 'course – but with the mysterious eyepatch, it makes things a little more difficult to keep anyone close. 'Cause once it's no longer a mystery, you's just a kid with an ugly blind eye."

Allyson frowned, unsure of what to say. He wouldn't meet her gaze, staring intently at the water, so she said the first thing that came to mind; "If I had to wager, I'd guess that your eye probably just looks like an eye." He laughed drily, and she continued, playfully punching his shoulder, "besides, I thought that you said your eye didn't bother you."

Blink was about to say something in reply, but was cut off by a loud wolf-whistle. Both of them looked up to see four newcomers walking down the top of the dock, already being swarmed by Spot's boys, who were whistling and calling out to them. Frowning, Allyson stood, trying to get a better look, Blink following, grabbing her nearly-forgotten jacket. She approached the group, gently pushing through the boisterous newsies, and found herself surprised to see that the four were Elizabeth, Rosie, Bea, and the black-haired girl she had seen earlier. Bea noticed her in the crowd, and grinned excitedly.

"Oh, it's you! Bronx-girl!" Bea reached into the crowd of boys, grasping Allyson's wrist and pulling her toward them.

"Allyson," Rosie supplied, regarding Allyson with a smirk. "How you likin' Brooklyn so far?"


	10. Chapter 10

Bea had led the swarm of boys back to the warehouse, Allyson being caught up and dragged along. Bea presented what Allyson could only describe as an army's worth of liquor, the bottles all lining the top of an old crate, and she had no idea where they had managed to get it all, though some of the fancier bottles she guessed were nicked from Julia's house. The boys all whooped excitedly, some boldly leaning in to kiss her on the cheek, thanking her. Spot watched the excitement from the top of his palettes, looking as poised as ever.

"Now, now," the crowd all turned in unison to see Elizabeth, her even tone and accent commanding attention. "You all must put on some clothes – we can't all prance around nearly nude."

"I'll put 'em on, only if ya help me outta them later, Liz!" Someone in the crowd had yelled, sending the rest of the newsies into more whistling and laughter. Elizabeth, unperturbed, shooed them all off, and like well-trained dogs, the boys dispersed, off to find their clothing, leaving only Allyson and the other girls standing around.

"What are you here for?" She asked, not meaning to sound as concerned as she did. She did have an idea – the liquor being a large hint as to their intentions – but was still confused; Bea laughed as though it was a silly question, which it maybe was.

"We're here to have a good time, Allyson," Bea said, bouncing with excitement.

Allyson narrowed her eyes at the rows of bottles. "Are you even allowed?"

She had meant _'does Julia know you're all here?'_ but Rosie seemed to interpret her as being a spoil sport. "What, do we have to ask permission? Spot said it's okay if we turned up with booze, so we turned up with booze." She tossed her hair over her shoulder, though she seemed to direct her attention to Spot. "Even if he hadn't, we would have taken our business elsewhere."

Spot hopped down from the stacked palettes and strode forward, grabbing a bottle off the crate. "As though I would turn away a couple'a pretty girls with free booze."

Bea giggled, batting her eyelashes at Spot, who looked gave her a smug smile. Rosie grabbed a bottle off the crate as well, and tried to pass it to Allyson.

"Here. Go on and relax, huh?" She smiled condescendingly, forcibly wrapping Allyson's hands around the bottle, and patted them gently when it was secured. "You've had a drink before, haven't you?"

"Of course I have," she grumbled, "I'm not a child."

The boys started to return, now fully dressed. Some arrived with arms filled with bottles of their own, distributing them amongst themselves. The warehouse echoed with the excitement of the boys, and the clattering of glass hitting glass.

Blink wandered back into the warehouse, clothed, his hair still rumpled from before. He took in the gathering with some confusion, Allyson only just realizing he hadn't been caught up in the excited crowd that had dragged her into the storage room. He spotted the bottles, eyebrows raised.

"What's goin' on?"

Rosie brightened at the sound of his voice. "Party."

He smirked. "To celebrate what?"

"Nothing!" Bea bounced on her heels, then seemed to think of something – "we're celebrating Spot and Julia making up."

Spot's eyebrows shot up, and he frowned, and looked ready to say something, but the mysterious dark haired girl cut him off.

"They hardly made up, Bea. But if I were to wager, she will eventually sniff us out here. We'll see what happens then."

"Irene!" Elizabeth pulled away from the small crowd of boys she had been entertaining, a chastening look on her face. "You can't get Julia drunk just so she'll be in a better mood - that's cheating."

Irene rolled her eyes and tucked her straight black hair behind her ear. "It's only cheating because you're betting against me."

A few of the boys nearby were snickering, some wanting to add to the betting pool. Rosie pushed through the grouped boys, having opened her bottle, and offered a second one to Blink, who took it happily. They tapped the dark glass together, then took a swig quickly. Allyson looked down at the still-closed bottle crooked in her arm, wishing she could put it down somewhere and forget about it.

When she looked up, Rosie and Blink had disappeared, leaving her surrounded by strangers.

She immediately felt lost in a sea of strangers.

She wandered toward the only landmark she had in the room, but the bottle-crate had been picked clean, only a few corks signifying its former use. She picked one up, then let it fall back to the wooden surface with a dull bounce. She watched as it rolled toward the edge of the crate, then finally tipped off, but before it could hit the floor, someone's hand shot out, deftly catching it.

She met eyes with Irene, who offered her back the cork. "Yours?"

Allyson shook her head, and Irene smiled slyly, reeling her arm back and whipping the cork overhead into the warehouse. She laughed as she watched it bounce off the head of one of Spot's boys. Then she turned her attention back to Allyson, a perfectly nice smile in place.

"I'm Irene," she said in introduction, wiping her hand on her skirt before offering it to shake. "You're Blink's girl, yeah?"

"I'm not. His girl, that is. My name's Allyson."

Irene looked mildly disappointed, the corners of her mouth drooping the tiniest bit. "That's a shame then."

"Whys that?"

"It was driving Rosie absolutely insane. The most jealous I think I've ever seen her!" Irene leaned closer, cupping one hand to cover her mouth as if she were telling a secret. "But, let's keep it between you and me, huh? At least for tonight?"

Irene laughed to herself as though that was the funniest thing she'd ever said, but then her expression turned deathly serious.

"Don't mistake me; Rosie's my best friend. But she so rarely gets taken down a notch, and even more rarely is she ever jealous – this is really for her own good," – the maniacal smile returned, reminding Allyson briefly of Doc – "as well as for my entertainment."

Allyson wasn't sure how to respond, so she simply nodded. She decided that, despite Irene's request, if Rosie asked her later about her and Blink, she wouldn't lie to her – she had suffered enough of Rosie's unpleasant attention to last her a lifetime. She wondered if Irene had ever been on the receiving end of that, and decided she must not have, or at least didn't care enough to notice; otherwise she wouldn't have been so cruel as to subject another person to that fate, simply for her enjoyment.

Irene patted her on the shoulder. Though she was quite bony, and disarmingly doll-like in her appearance, Irene was surprisingly strong; Allyson swore later that she had a bruise on her shoulder.

"Well, it was fantastic properly meeting you, Allyson," Irene said, her eyes fixed on a group of Brooklyn newsies throwing dice just behind them, "but I'll have to say goodbye for now."

Before she got to say anything in reply, Irene had pushed herself into the game, and Allyson was alone again.

She started to wander off, her unopened bottle still cradled in her arms. The warehouse was loud, and crowded even for such a large space, the smell of alcohol and bodies had overpowered the old dusty room. She had always hated crowds, had always felt uncomfortable caught in the middle of them. The only time she had been able to be really able to stand them was back when she and Molly would go together, and she could dance – but those get-togethers were nothing like the gathering in the warehouse. It was too crowded, there was no music. No fire or ghost stories either. There was too much noise, too many people laughing loudly. She had seen a fight break out. She couldn't think. She seriously considered leaving, but realised she should tell Blink first. She started to look for him, but realised she had nowhere to go even if she did.

She wanted to find someplace to hide, if that was even possible – to at least pretend she wasn't there anymore. The scene left her feeling overwhelmed, and abandoned by the only people she was remotely familiar with. She cringed as glass shattered nearby, followed by cheering, and forced her way through past jostling elbows and shoulders, making her way toward the nearest wall. She hoped that there, she could find a place to tuck away, to pretend she wasn't even there until she could leave.

She had made it to a large cluster of crates, secluded from the revellers. They were the only ones she could see that hadn't yet been claimed as seats or card tables. She quickly ducked behind them, considering for a moment that she could sit back here on the floor, and no one would notice her, when Rosie hopped over one of the smaller boxes as though it were barely an obstacle.

Allyson startled as Rosie landed beside her with all the grace of a dropped hammer, the blonde girl's face tinged pink. In her hand was a tall, green bottle, different from the one Allyson had seen her with earlier. Rosie quickly regained her balance, sizing Allyson up. She noticed the bottle, still in her arms.

"You ain't drinking?" Despite her apparent loss of grace, Rosie's voice hadn't yet changed to a slur. Though her face was glowing, she still looked terrifying, easily snatching Allyson's bottle from her hands. Rosie uncorked the bottle, then forced it back into Allyson's grip. The strong, piney scent of gin assaulted her nostrils, and Rosie looked at her expectantly, staring until Allyson reluctantly lifted it to her mouth. Satisfied, Rosie took a large swig from her own drink.

"So," Rosie started, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand in an extremely unladylike fashion, "what're you doing back here?"

"Hiding," Allyson admitted, taking another tiny mouthful of the pungent alcohol. She was likely imagining things, but she could almost feel it filling her veins, making the world around her feel watery, less real.

"No! Don't sip it," Rosie yelled, horrified and distracted from her own question, "what are you doing? You can't sip it!"

"I've never had gin before." She remembered the wines that she and Doc would sneak, fruity and sweet. They hadn't been nearly as bad to drink. In comparison, the gin was like swallowing a mouthful of fire. Or pine needles.

Rosie shook her head, taking another long swig. "Doesn't matter, don't be a baby."

Allyson glared, but tipped the bottle back, fighting against her urge to gag as she took a deep drink. Rosie looked contented, nodding to herself as though she had done some great service. Then, she seemed to remember why she had followed Allyson to the back of the warehouse.

"Why are you trying to hide?"

"Because I can't stand this," she gestured out to the rest of the warehouse.

Rosie immediately bowled past, decidedly uninterested in Allyson's reasons – "Where's Blink?"

"I don't know, I wasn't aware I was supposed to keep track of him," she snapped. "I thought he was with you."

Rosie looked confused. "I thought you two would'a been together, considering –" she waved her hand vaguely, a sour look on her face.

"We're not together."

Rosie's expression improved, though not for more than a second. "He was looking for you, y'know."

Allyson tried not to look surprised, or triumphant, though she couldn't be sure – the gin had already taken hold of her, the joints of her arms feeling loose, and her facial features were completely out of her control. She tried not to smile as she asked her, "Where did he go?"

Rosie seemed to lose interest in talking about Blink, ignoring her. Instead, she took to studying Allyson closely.

"Y'know, you're not all that bad, Allyson. You've got some fire in you." Rosie said solemnly before taking a large swig from her bottle. "I can see that. I get it."

Allyson shook her head weakly. "I try not to." It was an honest answer. Her temper had only ever gotten her in trouble, same with her stubbornness. She struggled to keep them under wraps, but it didn't always work out. Nervously, she drank almost a fifth of her bottle, if only to keep from saying anything more.

Rosie laughed shortly. "If that's you trying, I don't want to know what you're like when you're flying off the handle. Can't imagine it's pleasant." She stared at Allyson with her dark blue eyes. "You ever been in a fight, Bronx?"

"Sure."

Rosie scoffed. "I'd pay to see that. You're no taller than Zoe."

Allyson crossed her arms. "It doesn't matter that I'm short."

"'Course not. Still, I'd pay to see it." Rosie took another swig, then looked up like she had had an epiphany. "You should fight me, right now."

Allyson grimaced. She didn't need to get into it to know who would win between the two of them. "I'd rather not."

"Suit yourself."

There was a hush that suddenly came over the warehouse, and then there was a shout Allyson couldn't make out the words of, though whoever it was sounded none too pleased. It didn't stop, the voice rising into what was almost a shriek. Rosie paled.

"Shit." She chugged the last of her bottle, then slammed it down on the top of the crate. "It's Gabrielle. And Julia. C'mon."

She wasn't sure why Rosie wanted her to follow, but she did nonetheless. The rest of the partiers had the same idea, all pushing to see the commotion at the front entrance. As Rosie approached, they parted the way for her. Allyson stuck close to her heels, careful not to get caught in the mob as it closed behind them.

They made it to the front of the warehouse, and Allyson wished she could go back to the corner she had found. Gabrielle was there, towering over Spot, who looked annoyed, Julia looking just as unimpressed as she watched. Gabrielle was speaking in rapid-fire, though Allyson still had no idea what she was saying.

"Okay, Frenchie," Spot groaned, raising his hands in surrender, "ya realise I have no idea what you's sayin', right?"

That earned only a growl from Gabrielle, but from the corner of her eye, she spotted Rosie at the front of the drawn crowd, and her head whipped around to face her. Allyson had never seen such a furious expression in her life, and even though it was not directed at her, she felt like it was high time to find a large rock to crawl under. Beside her, Rosie stumbled back a step, though she didn't drop her stony expression.

" _You_ ," Gabrielle growled, stabbing her finger at Rosie's person. "This was your idea, wasn't it?"

Rosie's lips tightened. "Maybe."

There was complete silence as Gabrielle stalked forward. Allyson half expected her to slap the blonde girl, and she took a step away. She met eyes with Julia, who had moved surprisingly close to Spot, her eyes wide as though she too expected something to break out.

Instead, the French girl grabbed Rosie's arm. "You are going home. Now."

Rosie bared her teeth, ripping her wrist out of the taller girl's grip. "You're not the boss of me. And I'm not a child." She looked back between Julia and Gabrielle, a spiteful gleam in her eyes. "Neither of you are, as much as you want to believe it."

"No, we aren't," Julia agreed, stepping into the dangerous space between the two girls, "but you did not tell us where you were – we were worried. About all of you." She looked past Allyson, and there was a tiny squeal of fear from Bea. Allyson turned to see the younger girl ducking behind Irene, who looked unmoved by the whole situation.

"C'mon, Jules. You know that we didn't mean anything by it." The dark-haired girl's lips twitched into a smile, and Allyson remembered the bet between her and Elizabeth. "Relax."

Gabrielle drew in a deep breath, though her terrifying expression hadn't yet faded entirely. Julia turned to Spot.

"I am sorry for barging in like this. Please, continue."

Spot smirked. He still seemed annoyed, glaring at Gabrielle. "Yeah, well. Make yourselves at home. Don't let me stop you."

Gabrielle huffed, then turned on her heel, marching out of the building.

Though it took a minute for it to put up again, everything was quickly back to how it had been before, the boys regrouping and the girl dispersing among them. Julia glided toward Allyson, hand to her temple, looking exasperated.

"May I?" She pointed to the bottle of gin Allyson had forgotten she was carrying. She handed it to her with a quick nod.

Julia took a long drink, and then handed the bottle back to Allyson. "Thank you. I don't normally drink gin."

"I don't either," she admitted, tripping over her words slightly. Julia gave her a concerned look, and Allyson tipped the bottle back as she took a drink herself.

"You feeling alright, Allyson? Where's Kid Blink?"

She shrugged. "I hate things like this. With so many people. I don't know where he is."

Julia bit her lip, looking quite concerned as she gently took Allyson's elbow, steering her toward the outskirts of the crowd. "I think you've perhaps had enough to drink."

Allyson stopped for a moment. She didn't want to admit that she was starting to feel woozy, and her fingers had all but gone numb. She'd barely had anything, and though she usually wasn't great at holding her liquor, this display was particularly pathetic for her. She glanced down at the bottle. "Can't waste this, I don't think. Seems expensive."

"I'll take it, then," Julia said, smoothly taking it from her hands. "Wait here, and I'll take you back home."

Julia walked away, back toward Spot, who looked amused as she approached. Allyson felt herself wobble, her feet not so sure of themselves even as they stood still, her knees no longer feeling like they could maintain her posture, either. She wondered if anyone would help her up if they buckled.

As though they had read her mind, someone grasped her forearm, keeping her still. "There you are. Thought I'd lost ya."

Blink had come up behind her, his usual grin on his face. He didn't look too stable himself, but his hand on her arm made her feel less like she was about to trip over her own feet.

"Hey," she said, but it didn't sound right, her tongue too thick in her mouth. The alcohol bubbled in her stomach, but she ignored it. She looked up at his one blue eye, and found herself blushing. She imagined the colour of her cheeks must match his. His smile grew wider.

He took another step forward, too close; she had to look up too high to see his face. "Allyson, I gotta talk to ya."

"Yeah?" She was confused at his serious tone, it didn't match the smile on his face. She wanted to touch his eyepatch again, noticing the frayed edge as it rested against his cheekbone, but fought to keep her hand at her side.

"I just gotta know, we're still gonna be friends, right?" He licked his lips absently, bracing both his hands against her shoulders. He spoke too quickly, his words smudging together. "You's gonna go back to the Bronx, but I still wanna be friends."

"I do, too." Still confused, she gently touched his wrist. The noise in the warehouse was tinny, as though it was very far away. Blink stared at her intensely, his fingers wrapping around her shoulders a little too tightly. She didn't understand what he was worried about. "You said we were already friends…"

"But can we still be when ya go? Can I still see ya?

"Of course. If you want."

"Okay," he seemed satisfied, expression softening. "Okay. I just like you a lot. I still want to be friends."

"Okay," her voice came out weakly, and she found herself rising onto her tiptoes, their faces hovering close together.

He leaned in, closing the distance, and kissed her. For a moment, she was confused, thinking about how odd it was that Blink had called her his friend, but was now kissing her, but the thought was swept away almost as quickly as it had come up. She was surprised, first, because she wasn't appalled, and didn't want to push him away. Second, because it was nothing like the only other kiss she had ever had. Though both this one and the other had reeked of alcohol, Dusty's lips had been dry and cracked from the cold of winter. Blink's were soft. Pleasantly warm. Comforting, even; his lips were nicer, she decided.

She kissed him back, hands gently resting on his shoulders. Her head was spinning. She wasn't certain of why she was kissing him. When he pulled away, he grinned slightly, and was about to say something, when she felt a strange tightness in her chest.

She quickly turned before she doubled over, vomiting.

When she looked back up, Blink was howling with laughter, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I wasn't aware kissin' me was so bad," he gasped. She felt tears prick her eyes from the burn of her bile and the smell of pine; the room was spinning, and she felt herself gag again.

After that, she only remembered Julia wrapping an arm over her shoulders, gently leading her away. Everything else was too fuzzy to really bother recollecting.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

She woke up the next morning, but her eyes refused to open. She could see the light of morning through her eyelids, and her head was pounding as though someone had thrown her against a wall. A few times. But whatever she had been left to sleep on was the most comfortable thing she'd felt in a very long time.

There was the delicate rattle of silverware nearby, and she sat up straight. The younger girl she had met the day before, Zoe, was standing over her, and squeaked in surprise at Allyson's sudden movement. She nearly dropped the fine-looking tray in her hands, the glass of water and plate clattering with the jolt. Allyson groaned, her moving and the noise making the throbbing in her skull turn to a stabbing pain, and she sunk back down into her seat, eyes firmly shut.

"No, no – don't sit up! You had a rough night, I hear." Zoe placed the tray on a nearby table, then brought the glass of water over. "You should drink this; it'll make you feel better."

Allyson forced her eyes to peel open, carefully took the water. Zoe watched her carefully, as though making sure she didn't choke. Allyson pretended not to notice, turning her attention to the room, trying to place where she was – she vaguely remembered Julia leading her back to the fancy house with the yard, but the room she was in wasn't familiar. It was a sitting room, with annoyingly huge windows, letting in more sunlight than Allyson felt she could handle at the moment. She had been set up on an extremely plush couch with a real feather pillow, and a gorgeously embroidered blanket, stitched with hummingbirds and brightly-coloured petunias. The flowers did more to hurt her eyes than to better her mood.

She glanced at Zoe, who looked strangely apologetic. "We didn't have an extra bed for you last night. I hope your sleep wasn't too uncomfortable."

Allyson shook her head, steadily draining her glass of water. She still didn't feel as though she could speak yet. Her throat felt as though she had swallowed sandpaper. She waved her hand as if to say _it was fine, thanks_ , her sleeve waving as she did so.

She stared at her arm, confused as she noticed there was more loose fabric at her wrist than she was used to, then looked down at herself, realising suddenly that the night clothes she was wearing weren't her own – they were far too pretty, and clean, to be hers. She didn't remember changing into the white cotton night gown, but she must have at some point, which begged the question as to where her clothing had gotten to.

Suddenly panicked, she look around the room, trying to see what had become of her overalls, jacket, shirt – anything – but couldn't find any evidence of their whereabouts. Zoe noticed, and gently passed her the plate of bread.

"Julia's had your clothes cleaned. They were, uh," Zoe's button nose wrinkled in disgust, and she cut herself off there. "I can go get them for you, if you'd like."

"Please," she croaked out, and with a polite nod, Zoe left her alone in the bright room.

As she ate the roll of bread, she tried to remember the night before. Being sick she remembered quite clearly, and the smell of bile and pine – she wasn't sure she would be able to so much as look at a bottle of gin after that – and Rosie, tipsy, goading her into drinking until her stomach roiled.

And Kid Blink.

She froze, suddenly very aware of what had happened between the two of them.

He had kissed her.

Or had she kissed him?

Before she had the chance to work out the details of who had initiated what, Zoe had returned to the room, a neatly folded pile of denim and cotton folded over her arms. She placed them on the couch by Allyson's feet with a small smile.

Allyson stared at the neatly folded square for a moment before realising something was missing – "Do you know where my jacket is?"

Zoe frowned. "I'm not sure. But I'm sure I can get you another."

Allyson wanted to refuse her, but she did need a jacket, especially as the weather was getting cooler. But she still searched her memory, hoping maybe she did know where it was.

And, again, she remembered Blink. And how he had looked at the dock the day before, hair wet and grinning, and how she had left her jacket with him.

She shook the image of his grinning face from her mind.

Zoe then pulled a pair of socks from a pocket hidden in the folds of her skirt. They were black and tightly knit. They looked as though they'd never been worn, no fraying hems, no holes, no fading colour. They weren't hers.

"Julia said to give these to you," she said, passing them to Allyson, who almost didn't take them. "She said the ones you were wearing before were more hole than sock."

Awed, Allyson could only manage to nod her thanks as she accepted the marvelous gift. She then reached for her shirt, unfolding it over her lap, and she nearly startled, sure a mistake had been made; the shirt was too white to be hers. But on closer inspection, she realised it was hers – it had the same hole in the right elbow, the same second-last button missing. But it was so clean! She marveled over it, and the smell. She had never been able to clean her own clothing so well.

"Th-thank you," she said, smoothing her hands over the sleeves. "It's so clean."

She immediately felt stupid for saying that, though Zoe didn't mention it; instead she smiled again, her eyes slightly sad. Allyson ignored the look, not wanting to acknowledge how pitiful she was being, and how obviously sorry for her Zoe felt.

Zoe brushed her hands over the front of her dress, looking slightly uncomfortable as she stood there, as though she wasn't sure what to say. "When you're done dressing, we'll be in the dining room."

As soon as she had left, door closed behind her, Allyson stripped off the fancy nightgown. For a second, she considered taking it, but knew she shouldn't. It had been lent to her as a favour, and it was far too nice a piece of clothing for her to consider keeping. Back at the cellar in the Bronx, she had an undershirt and pair of soft pants she would wear while she slept. The nightgown was unsuitable for the dark cellar, where it would only be dirtied and ruined. It was supposed to stay with someone like Julia, who deserved it – she folded it as neatly as she could, placing it in the center of the feather pillow. She dressed quickly, buttoning her renewed shirt and pulling on her new socks, then pulling her overalls over. She was slightly disappointed when she realised they had not gone through a transformation like the shirt's, but didn't dwell on it. They at least smelled as though they'd never been worn before.

She found her boots tucked to the side of the couch, and shoved her feet in them, marvelling at how different they felt when she wore socks without holes. Savouring the feeling for a moment, she then departed from the room, uncertain if she should bring down the breakfast tray or not. She finally decided to leave it, and headed out of the bright room.

The hallway beyond was different from the one she had seen the day before, but similar with its unadorned white walls. Though her head was clearing, the pale lighting of the hall still hurt her eyes, but she pushed forward. There was a small archway at the end of it, which she headed towards, and realised that it actually connected to the other hall. She followed the sounds of quiet chatter into the dining room, where Julia, Irene, and Zoe were sitting around the table for tea. Julia and Irene were both dressed nicely, Irene in a skirt and blouse, Julia in a periwinkle dress, and despite her uniform, Zoe looked at ease across the table from the other two. Allyson almost wished she hadn't changed from the nightgown, feeling out of place in her overalls and shirt.

Irene was the first to notice her standing uncomfortably in the doorway, and smirked lightly.

"Well, if it isn't our very own sleeping beauty."

"Irene, that's quite unnecessary." Julia carefully set down her teacup, looking as dignified as ever. However, when she looked up at Allyson, her expression softened to a smile. "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Better."

"That's good." Julia reached for a teapot, painted to match the violets on the teacups. "Tea?"

She awkwardly took a seat at the table, pulling out the chair beside Zoe, and took the teacup that Julia pushed in front of her. She tried to ignore Julia paying her rapt attention as she took a sip of the hot drink – and then had to wrestle with herself to keep from spitting it out. Though it was fragrant smelling, the taste was incredibly bitter, and the heat already scalded the tip of her tongue.

"Here," Zoe slid a small box toward her, filled with small cubes of sugar, "if it's not sweet enough."

Everyone was silent as Allyson used the tiny tongs to add five cubes to her drink, and stir them carefully with the small spoon Zoe passed her. Irene broke the silence suddenly, blurting out, "so, your beau was looking for you earlier."

"Irene," Julia's tone was warning, though the dark haired girl ignored her.

Allyson opened her mouth to correct her, but Irene carried on – "Zoe told me he had slept on the front porch."

Julia turned to the younger girl with the same aghast expression. "Zoe!"

The girl had the decency to look sheepish, and quietly said, "that's not true. At least, I don't know if he slept there –"

"But you do know he was quite insistent about finding Allyson, right? Surprised you didn't hear the commotion, Jules." Irene shrugged. "Just means he cares about you. I mean after last night, and the ruckus he made at the door, I'm surprised he didn't try to break in."

"I-is he still here?" Allyson stammered, dropping the teaspoon to the tabletop with a clatter.

Irene said "probably," at the same moment Zoe murmured "yes."

Allyson wasn't sure how to reply, though she wanted to get up and leave, either to find Blink outside or find somewhere to hide. Instead, she decided to gulp down her tea in a very un-ladylike manner, not stopping even as she realised it was disgustingly sweet, and that everyone was staring at her.

Zoe delicately set down her own teacup in front of her, clearing her throat slightly. "My brother was looking for you as well."

"Is he still here?" Allyson stood abruptly from the table, startling the other girls.

"No, he left when I told him you were asleep."

"Where did he go?" Her voice was shriller than she meant it to be.

"Back to our cousin's, I'd imagine…"

"I have to go find him," she moved to leave the room, but was stopped by the scrape of one of the dining chairs against the hardwood floor.

"Allyson, please calm down," Julia stood from her seat as well. "There's no need to panic. Zoe can fetch William for us, right?"

The younger girl nodded.

"Then you can wait here, and he can reunite you and your brother." She turned again to Zoe. "Please, be quick."

Zoe darted from the room, gathering her skirts in her hands as she disappeared out the door. Julia lowered herself back into her seat at the head of the wooden table, and motioned for Allyson to do the same. However, she hesitated, considering whether it really would be best to just wait for Zoe to return. But she remembered that Blink was supposedly still out waiting for her, and even though every time she thought of him her stomach tied in a knot, she knew that he was the only person she could truly trust in all of Brooklyn.

Julia ignored that she hadn't sat down again, instead moving to pour herself some more tea. "Would you like something more to eat, Allyson? Something else to drink?"

"I don't want to be rude," Allyson said carefully. She paused for just a moment, trying to determine what was best to say next, as Julia looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and Irene watched intently. "I would really like to stay, but I feel I should go see Blink."

Irene smirked widely at the mention of the Manhattan. Julia frowned, but then said, "No, not rude at all – I understand completely."

Allyson watched her as she stood from the table again, carefully straightening her skirts before she headed to the dining room's entrance. She waited for Allyson to follow.

"I shall see you out."

As she followed the girl out, Allyson glanced over her shoulder to Irene, who immediately looked bored, alone at the table.

Julia silently led the way down the short hall, practically gliding across the floorboards in her long, flowing dress. Allyson couldn't help but think the garment absurd – though beautiful in its ornate stitching and the tiny details of lace lining the hems of the skirt and the sleeves, it was exceptionally impractical. With the cinches at the back of the waist and the tiny buttons at the cuffs, she could only imagine how much work it would take to don the dress as well. Even before she came to live on the streets, she had never seen such extravagant clothing.

Once in the foyer, Julia finally turned to face Allyson again. She couldn't help but notice that she was standing directly under the portrait of her family, and wore the same stately expression as there.

"Well, I hate to see you go so soon," she said, and Allyson couldn't quite tell if it was a genuine sentiment or if she was just being polite in the way all rich people were. Without warning, Julia took both her hands, clasping her own over them. "Please, do not feel like you can never come back; you're more than welcome if you're ever again in the neighbourhood."

Allyson stared down at their hands. Julia's were so perfect in comparison to her's – nails all manicured and squared, knuckles clean of any dirt and blisters, her skin so unimaginably smooth. Allyson's own hands were a mess of jagged nails, ink stains that never quite came out all the way, perpetual cuts and bruises. She wasn't sure which pair of hands were worse.

Tearing her away from her sudden fixation was a yell from outside the front door. Julia immediately dropped her hands, face now set in a quiet dissatisfied look as she stormed to the entrance and swung the old wooden door open to reveal the ruckus.

Stepping out onto the porch, the source of the disturbance was obvious – immediately outside the door was Blink, facing out to the yard. He didn't turn back to look when he heard the door open, instead staring down a rough-looking Rosie. She was standing at the bottom of the porch, glaring, and looking like a complete mess; her hair was mussed, and both her knuckles and jaw were bruised. Her eyes looked bloodshot, like she hadn't slept, but her glower was as fierce as anything. Blink was returning the look, standing over her on the porch. From where she stood in the border of the front door and the yard outside, Julia gave a resigned sigh, drawing the attention of both.

"Honestly Rosie, do you have to fight with everyone?" She gave the girl's hands and face a pointed look, and the blonde practically bared her teeth at her. Julia ignored her, continuing, "And can you keep your arguments off the front lawn? It's too early for you to start something, and we have neighbours we have to keep in mind."

"I wasn't arguing," Rosie grumbled, not taking her eyes off Blink for a second. "I was just asking him a question."

Blink snorted in disbelief, and Rosie glared at him again.

"Shove it, Kid." She tossed her wild hair over her shoulder, revealing for a glimpse a small trail of bruised spots along her pale throat, though not like she had been grabbed there by whomever she had been fighting…

As she realised what they were, Allyson almost laughed to herself. _Fighting_ and _frolicking_ , she thought, though she wasn't really surprised with the concept of Rosie doing either. Or both, as it seemed.

"Enough, come inside," Julia said, nearly barking the order as she held the door open. Rosie stalked forward, only breaking eye-contact with Blink long enough to give Allyson a stiff nod, and then disappeared inside the house. Without a word, Julia shut the door behind them, leaving Allyson and Blink alone out on the porch. Allyson crept up to stand beside him, though he didn't notice or care, instead fishing through his pockets for a cigarette. Lighting it and taking a heavy drag on it, he finally acknowledged her, raising his eyebrows in question.

"Y'feelin' any better?" She couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable look he gave her; he practically winced as their eyes met. She pretended not to notice, and ignored his question, not wanting to acknowledge the meaning behind it, instead asking her own.

"What was Rosie asking you?"

He blew out a line of smoke, looking away from her again before he mustered an answer. "Nothin' interestin'."

She scoffed, annoyed he was trying to lie to her. "Yeah, it must have been boring, for the two of you to look like you were going to go at it like that."

Blink sighed, not in frustration, but instead resigned. "She asked me why I had kissed you. She thinks I was trying to do something. But I wasn't, I swear it."

He looked so guilty, and she was surprised at how openly that was written in his face. He stared at her, the look in his one blue eye begging her to forgive him, all while Allyson felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs. She wasn't sure what to say, and just stared back as she tried to get her heart to stop beating so hard against her ribs. The two of them stared at each other in awkward silence before she managed to find her voice again, and even then it came out as a small, thin version of itself. "Why did you kiss me?"

"I… I don't know. I wasn't thinkin', I just did." He rubbed the heels of his hands against his face hard. "Are you mad at me?"

She thought for a moment, while he stared at her, looking, more nervous than she could have imagines him being. She realised she wasn't angry with him at all though, even with her chest feeling heavy and her face was flushing. She ignored them again, and met his eye. "No, I don't think so."

For a second, he looked surprised at her answer, then relieved.

" _You don't think so_?" There was a ghost of his usual smile as he mimicked her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shoved him hard enough to make him nearly stumble off the porch, the anxiety that was roiling inside her finally settling. "It was just a kiss, Blink."

He laughed. "Best you've ever had, though, I'm sure."

"Yeah, so great it made me sick." She rolled her eyes, but smiled back at him.

"So, we're still friends?"

"At this point, I don't think you'd let me say 'no.'" She laughed drily. "Of course we are."

She took a seat on the step of the porch, and Blink did the same, looking out across the yard and into the street. For the two of them, she realised they were being oddly quiet – usually Blink would have started to talk by now. Instead, he sat in silence, and she watched as he moved his hands to the kerchief at his throat, fumbling with the ties of it absently. She noticed for the first time how old it looked – it was fraying at the edges, and though its colour was still apparent, it was more of a faded gray than a vibrant shade of blue. She also realised that over the last three days, she hadn't seen him without it; even yesterday, while he had been swimming, it had been tied securing around his wrist.

"Where's that from?" She blurted the question out before she could stop herself, startling him slightly. He gave her a perplexed look, but she pointed to the neckerchief. "Your scarf. Where's it from?"

He turned back out to the yard, and for a moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer – but when he did it was in an unfamiliarly solemn tone. "It's from my mother."

Though he would have pressed further if it were her, she didn't push it. Though they had made up, she didn't want to make it any more uncomfortable.

"Did you really sleep out here?" She asked, smiling slightly to herself.

"I might'a." He returned her half-smile. "Who told you?"

"Zoe and Irene said you tried to break in."

His laugh came out more like a bark. "That's not true at all.""

"No?"

"No. I was completely blitzed when I got here. I could barely stand – was lucky that I even figured you was here at all."

"Why'd you even come at all? You probably could have gone back with Spot's guys rather than slept out here like a bum."

"Obviously, but I was worried 'bout you."

She felt a small pinch in her chest, and quickly looked away from him, realising she was blushing for what felt like the thousandth time in the last few days. Annoyed at herself, she wondered if she'd ever been so easily flustered before in her life – immediately, she blamed Blink for it.

"Don't make things up," she muttered.

"What? 'Course not, Al, what're ya talking about?" His voice was light, joking, though uncertain. He gently reached out and touched her shoulder, and she flinched away, remembering how he had done that last night, before…

She stood suddenly, seeing two figures coming to the front gate of the yard. "Look, Zoe's back."

Allyson jogged up to meet the two siblings halfway down the path that split the yard. As always, Umpire looked irritated, Zoe struggling to keep pace with her elder brother while wearing her long uniform.

"Where's Teddy?"

Umpire sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Didn't anyone ever teach you any manners, Bronx?" When she didn't correct herself, he sighed again. " _Good Morning_ is what people usually say."

"Where's Teddy?" She said again, more forcefully this time. Umpire looked unbothered.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"William," Zoe said through her teeth, sounding surprisingly authoritative in compare to her usual mousey demeanor. Her brother looked at her from the corner of his eyes, swallowing hard.

"Fine, he's still at our cousin's. I didn't want him to try an' run away – he seems keen to."

"Doesn't trust ya, Ump?" Blink grinned, though it wasn't very friendly. "Can't say I blame him."

Umpire rolled his eyes at the Manhattaner. "Yeah, yeah. You'll have to come with me though. Promised him I'd be right back with you."

"Fine, let's go now then." She had to fight to keep her voice from raising both in octave and in volume as she followed close behind Umpire as he turned in his heel out of the yard. She only spared a quick glance back over her shoulder so she could wave goodbye to Zoe, who stood by the door of the house, watching them disappear down the road.

The walk was painfully slow. Every inch of Allyson's body was telling her to run, to go faster, and to get there _now._ But she had to remember that she didn't even know where 'there' was. Umpire, despite his longer stride, was moving without the urgency she wished for, and it was taking every last scrap of her willpower not to bark at him to move fast; she knew if she did, he would probably slow his pace just to irritate her.

Just a pace behind her, Blink seemed equally antsy, though she couldn't tell why. She decided to chalk it up to empathy for her anxiety; she couldn't spare the time to ponder on it, to think about anything other than being reunited with her brother.

What would she even say to him? She hadn't even thought that far ahead – she'd been so focused the last few days on just finding him, she forgot that she should decide what to say to him. Something about how much he had made her worry, or how stupid he was to have run off – but no, she didn't want to upset him. She knew her brother enough to know that he would already be feeling bad enough about having gotten lost. And really, was she even allowed to tell him he was stupid for leaving home when she had done the exact same thing only a handful of years earlier?

She remembered what Matthew had said to her the day she found out Teddy had gone – that it was her fault. And though she had pushed the thought away for the last few days, she knew it was true, and that if she had never left he wouldn't have either. But it was more difficult than that. She wasn't the only person who was responsible for her younger brother – where had Sylvia and Matthew been in the time before he'd slipped away?

She clenched and unclenched her fists as she walked, forcing away her anger – she would have plenty of time to chew out her siblings once Teddy was home safe.

She finally looked up, seeing that Umpire had led them to a new area of the borough, entirely unfamiliar to her from the wealthier streets Julia had lived on, and the harbour and shipping yard Spot's boys had been hanging around. They were now in the heart of the urban center, surrounded by storefronts, shipping carts and street stalls. The road they were on was busier than the others that Allyson had seen in Brooklyn so far, more similar to the haunts she'd frequented in the last few days, with passing businessmen, working class people, and the calls of newsies echoing off the fronts of the buildings. The shop Umpire had brought them to a halt in front of was recessed from the main street, constructed between its neighbours. There was an actual building to the one side, looking like it was more of a home than a shop front; to the other side was the wooden structure that was undeniably a stable, the strong smell of horses permeating the area around it.

There was a young man standing at the opening of the stable having a smoke, who was maybe in his mid-twenties, who looked rather similar to Umpire with the same dark skin and the close-cropped hair. But where Umpire was similar in appearance to a beanpole, the man was all wide shoulders and muscle as well as being quite tall. Seeing them approach, he stomped out the cigarette, waving to Umpire casually before he entered the house.

They waited in silence for the man to return, Allyson's heart drumming against her ribcage so much she was surprised neither Kid Blink or Umpire seemed to notice. He did eventually return, after what had felt like an age, and behind him followed a small figure.

The man stopped in the doorway, nearly blocking the second person from view, but she caught just a glimpse of the boy peeking out from behind the man's legs – the same dark brown and wavy hair as her, the round face, the clothes mad grubby from the time he'd been on the streets – and as soon as she knew it was him, she was filled with relief.

But before he could see her, and before she could call out to him, or run to him and gather her brother in her arms, Teddy tore off down the street.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The man – Umpire's cousin – made a grab for him, but he was too slow; Teddy had darted away easily and was sprinting off. Before anyone else could react, Allyson took off after him, running faster she had ever before.

She chased after him, yelling his name as she went. When she saw him turn a corner, she followed, but he was so much faster than she was, so much smaller – he darted under carts and around the legs of passerby's, spooked a horse hitched to a cart which Allyson had to give a wider breadth to pass, losing precious seconds in her pursuit. She didn't know anyone else had followed until she reached a small market square and lost sight of him in the crowd, when Blink suddenly grabbed her shoulder able to see further through the bustle, and then pointed to the east road.

"There!" He took off a second before she did, and the two were after the runaway again.

They came to another standstill when Teddy slipped down a quiet side street, and lost him for a moment. The men who were moving shipments of crates and barrels into the backdoors on the alley gave them wary looks, the two teenagers breathing heavily as they frantically searched the small space with their eyes. There was a dead end wall at the far reaches, but there were carts of cargo along the sides. Allyson looked under them, but saw nothing. It wasn't until Umpire caught up that any of them noticed where Teddy had gone.

"Look, he's climbed up onto that ledge," Umpire pointed above one of the carts, where, sure enough, they caught a glimpse of one of Teddy's feet was slipping into the small space between two buildings. The three newsies crossed the alley toward the crawlspace, Blink trying to scale the cart to reach for the younger boy, but one of the workmen barked at him to get off, mounting the driver's bench himself before spurring the horse to take leave.

They watched as the cart left the alleyway with its workers, leaving them too far under the hiding spot Teddy had gotten himself into to reach him.

"Shit." Blink pulled his cap off his head, running a hand through his dirty blond hair as he looked back and forth between the retreating cart and the ledge overhead.

Allyson cupped her hands around her mouth, calling up to the space above. "Teddy!"

After a second's wait, Teddy's face peered down at them from his hiding spot, his eyes wide as he finally saw that his sister was there. "Al? You're really here?"

She couldn't find the words – she just nodded her confirmation.

Teddy's face lit up as he braced himself against the opening of the crawlspace, leaning out past the edge. For a second, Allyson's heart dropped, thinking he was going to tumble out, but he didn't, able to keep himself balanced on the ledge.

"I thought he was lying, but you're really here!" Teddy glanced warily at Umpire, who sniffed indignantly. "I thought he was gonna kidnap me an' sell me to slavers or something!"

Blink laughed loudly at the younger boy's claims, Umpire rolling his eyes at him. Allyson was frankly unsurprised – Teddy had an extremely active imagination, and had always fixated on the ideas perpetuated in his children's stories that people were always out to kidnap young boys for the purpose of indentured servitude. She couldn't help but laugh as well, though instead of at the expense of the Brooklynite in her midst, it was in relief. Despite everything he had been through, which she could only imagine at this point, Teddy was still Teddy.

But then she realised that though he was finally in her reach, "Can you get down?"

Teddy looked around his small confines, then down at the ground far below him, visibly paling as he realised just how high up he was.

"I don't think so… I think I'm stuck."

"Okay," Allyson said, glancing to her companions for input, though neither boy put anything forward. Umpire even took a step back, looking as disinterested as ever, while Blink gave her a look, conveying to her that he was trying to think through the situation as well. "Okay, we'll get you down."

"How?"

She stopped in her tracks for a second, not sure how she could possibly answer such a simple question. But Blink, as he had been for the last few days, was there for her, stepping up. "You can jump down."

"What?" Both of the Deans spoke in the same shrill tone, Allyson glaring at her friend, and Teddy paling even further, starting to look as though he may faint.

Blink held her gaze. "No, he can do it; I'll catch him."

"Blink, you can't be serious."

"I am." He stepped forward, now looking only at Teddy as he spoke calmly. "It's easy, you just have to jump and you'll be fine."

Teddy shook his head adamantly, though, inching back away from the edge of the crawlspace. "I can't!"

"You can, I promise you'll be fine."

"Blink," Allyson said quietly, lightly touching her friend's arm. He looked at her again finally, and she said, trying to Teddy from hearing her admit on his behalf; "He really can't. He's afraid of heights."

Blink looked confused for a second, before he finally whispered back, "Then why the hell'd he hide up there?"

"I have no idea – I doubt he was thinking too hard about it at the time," she hissed back.

There was a small whimper from above, drawing both Blink and Allyson's attention back to the small boy. "Al, am I gonna be stuck up here forever?"

"No! Of course not." She looked around the alley, trying to look for something that could help them. "We'll figure something out."

Blink's good eye lit up with epiphany. "I got an idea."

"Yeah?"

"You're not going to like it, though," he said. He suddenly dropped down into a crouch, and Allyson took a step backwards, not at all sure what he was trying to accomplish – but he gestured at his shoulders when he looked up at her. "I'll give you a lift."

Umpire laughed loudly from the sidelines.

"No way," she raised her hands defensively, as though he were going to tackle her, but he didn't move, just continued to wait.

"Knew ya wouldn't like it, but c'mon." He waved her toward him again, but she took another step back.

"You can't lift me up."

He laughed loudly at her assertion – "You? You're practically a waif. I could prolly throw you if I wanted."

"No, not that you can't lift me," she glared at him. "I won't let you."

"I get that you like to get all prideful, Al, I really do, but right now ain't really the time." He glanced pointedly up at Teddy, who was watching the scene below with some measure of confusion. "C'mon."

She groaned loudly, but finally took the step toward him, and after she awkwardly stepped over him. Easily, he stood up straight with her perched on his shoulders. He then walked her up to the wall, holding her steady by her knees.

"Can ya reach?"

She was only slightly under the edge of the cubby, almost able to reach her brother, if she were only just a little taller – but as she stretched out her arms to try, Blink gripped her tighter to his shoulders, and she could feel that she had started to teeter. She tried again, more careful not to lurch, but though she was close, she wasn't close enough.

"I can't, I'm just a little short."

Again, Umpire laughed. "As entertainin' as this is, I feel like you should give up before you both end up hurtin' someone, and we all get in shit."

Allyson glared daggers at him. "I don't see you stepping up with any bright ideas."

"I'm fine over here, thanks."

Blink knelt down again, letting Allyson stand back up on her own feet.

"Well, what if we got the cart back?"

Allyson shook her head, "But they're long gone by now."

"Not that one, then, but what about a different one?"

Umpire scoffed. "What, you got one of those just lying around?"

Blink looked at Umpire like he wanted to slug him, and Allyson realised that seemed to be everyone's reaction to his presence. Umpire shot him a look that screamed I dare you, and for a second she was worried that he would, but Blink turned away pointedly, and started talking to Teddy casually, much to the younger boy's interest.

She thought on Umpire's obnoxious retort for a moment before realising she just might have a cart laying around. "Chipper has one."

Both boys turned to her with the same surprised look.

"What?" Blink said.

"Chipper, as in, Chipper Harvey?" Umpire's surprise quickly gave way to disgust. Everyone knew who Chipper was – but no one liked him. His reputation as a proud scoundrel in all things related to money didn't help his image much. He was well known for being a cheat, a liar, and worse of all, cocky. "You gotta be shittin' me. There's no way you know him."

Blink shot him another look, before pointing out the obvious – "they're both from the Bronx. And Al knows his brother."

She was confused for a second, before realising that she had mentioned Dusty the day before to Jack – but then wasn't sure how Blink knew he was Chipper's brother, as Dusty liked to keep that as under wraps as possible, believing that Chipper was a bit of an embarrassment, even for a kid living on the streets.

"He's how I got to Manhattan in the first place. And he had a cart then."

"Well, do you even know where he is now?"

Her immediate answer was 'no,' but before she could form the word, she was struck with a memory from the few days earlier when he had been driving the cart down to Manhattan. While she had sat in silence in the back of the cart with Opera, she had overheard Chipper talking to Rook about his plans for the week, ensuring that the younger boy would be able to find him when he had the money he owed. She hadn't thought anything of it before, but now she was glad she had been eavesdropping on what she had thought to be a boring conversation.

"He said he'd be at the Ratway."

Though the name had meant nothing to Allyson, it obviously held some significance to Blink, who frowned deeply at its mention.

"What is it?" She asked.

"The Ratway ain't exactly the nicest joint."

"What, like Sunny's?"

He shook his head. "Not that bad, depending on your preffered vices. It's a fighting ring."

She couldn't even find that she was surprised to learn that. "Sounds like the sort of thing that Chipper would invest his time at."

"And his money," Blink added. "What with his business, and all that."

She wasn't surprised at that assumption either, though she was perplexed at Blink or anyone else knowing about the specifics of Chipper's more lucrative pastimes. She was used to everyone close to the lodging house in the Bronx knowing about it, because they all knew of the three Harvey brothers, Wiseman, Chipper, and Dusty, who had all spent some time working as newspaper peddlers in their time -- for some reason it hadn't occurred to her that Chipper's infamy across New York City would include general knowledge of his favoured work as a bookie.

She tried to discern from Blink's expression what his opinion was of the fighting ring, or what his "preferred vices" were, to put it in his own words. She already felt like she might have some idea. He'd already told her the other day that he had no interest in the brothel's services, though she still wasn't so sure how much truth there was to that claim. But then the day before, when he had immediately jumped up to fight Jack…

She hazarded a guess that fighting perhaps was Blink's.

"Okay, so we go to the Ratway," she said, then glanced up to Teddy. "But I'll have to stay with Teddy."

Umpire shook his head stiffly. "No way. I ain't goin' with just Kid Blink to talk to crazy Chipper."

Allyson said, "Chipper's not really crazy," at the same time as Blink said, with a tone of offense, "What's wrong with me?"

Umpire rolled his eyes at Blink, who huffed indignantly. He then glared at Allyson.

"If you're so chummy with Chipper, why don't you go talk to 'im?"

"I'm not leaving my brother."

"Well, I ain't gonna go to some fighting ring filled with criminals."

Blink scoffed. "Look, Ump, if you're too scared, you can just say so."

The Brooklynite practically growled. "I ain't scared."

"Nah, you're just too straight-laced for that kind of shit, huh?" Blink leaned forward, squaring up, and Allyson felt she was again reaffirming that he was indeed always ready for a fight.

"Rather be straight-laced than street trash."

"Well, unfortunate news for you Ump, you're street trash; we all are."

The two boys were getting uncomfortably close to one another, and Allyson was not in the mood to mediator a fight. She shoved her way between them both, separating them with her arms. "Enough, both of you. You can fight later, there are more important things to deal with right now."

She looked back up to her brother, who stared back with wide eyes.

"I don't know how to get out of Brooklyn on my own, and I don't know how to get back here. So," she prodded Umpire in the chest, "you're going to come with me."

Umpire opened his mouth to argue, but before he could she had turned to Blink.

"You have to stay with Teddy, alright?" She waited for him to protest, but he just nodded. "You're the only person I can trust, Blink, I just need you to make sure he's safe."

He nodded again, and then grabbed her by the hand, not quite in a handshake, but not quite in a joining way, either. "I'll do it. I've got your back, remember?"

"Yeah." She turned to Umpire again, steeling her expression. He looked back at her, incredibly put out – she was surprised he wasn't pouting. "We're going now, then."

Halfway to Manhattan, she regretted not taking longer to say goodbye to Teddy before she took off. She had tried to explain everything to him, then he told her he had heard – she tried to promise that Blink would take good care of him, but Teddy seemed apprehensive, but she didn't want to waste any time when she was so close to having him come home safe.

Umpire was still completely miserable, and she could tell he was looking forward to never seeing her again. He had actually nearly said as much as soon as they had crossed the boundary of the two boroughs.

"Y'know, there's a hundred other things I could be doin' right now."

"You promised to help me yesterday, so like it or not, you're keeping your promise."

She glared at him, and he returned it.

And after that he was silent and brooding, chomping away at the wad of tobacco in his mouth, occasionally splattering it on the walkway as they crossed over the East River.

All in all, he was rotten company.

It had only been twenty minutes, but she was already missing Blink.

She knew that she didn't trust Umpire to stay and watch Teddy, and that Teddy didn't like him anyway -- not that she could blame him for it, as Umpire had proven moreover to be less than charming at the best of times -- but at the same time, she was so used to Blink's company after the last few days that it was as though something was missing now that he was gone. She tried to shake the feeling though, knowing that after today she wasn't likely to see him again.

Even though he'd said he wanted to see her again last night, before he had --

She still didn't want to think about it. There were more important things to think about than him kissing her.

Or her kissing him?

She shook her head violently, trying to physically loose the thought. Umpire rolled his eyes at her, as though he could tell what she was thinking.

Once across the bridge, Allyson had Umpire lead the way back to the circulation square. He had started to protest, saying "I thought we were going to the Ratway?"

"Do you know where it is?" She looked at him coolly.

His silence was answer enough.

The walk felt slower in their silence, but Umpire didn't seem keen to do more than work at his tobacco, and Allyson hardly wanted to get chummy. Umpire was fairly confident in his path to the square, though, and they got there just in time to catch some of the less-ambitious boys as they had finished up their sales for the morning, and were waiting for the release of the evening edition. She spotted Racetrack knelt over a small circle of other boys, hands clasped together as he shook them. Among the bunch were Rook and Opera, leaning the circle and watching as Racetrack threw his dice, Rook and Opera hovering with their heads together as they conferred about their gamble. Racetrack gave a whoop of excitement, and Rook and Opera exchanged serious looks. Allyson made a beeline toward them, leaving Umpire to stand uncomfortably at the edge of the square, very obviously trying not to be noticed.

Opera saw her first, eyebrows raised in surprise at her sudden appearance, but he didn't say anything. The other Manhattan boys noticed her as well, though most simply ignored her, Racetrack giving her a slight nod before returning to the game. It took a moment longer for Rook to notice, too focused on the dice to tear himself away, but became annoyed when Opera wasn't responding to his questions. He glanced sideways at his younger companion, then followed his gaze up to Allyson. Seeing her finally, his face split across in a wide grin.

"Hey, look, it's Just Allyson!" He rocked back on his heels, bouncing up from his crouch. A few of the other boys protested him turning away from the game, but he waved them off, Opera filling in the gap, though he still kept his eyes on Rook and Allyson.

"Hey Rook," she nodded, "where's the Ratway?"

Rook snorted loudly as Opera paled beside him. "The Ratway? Why on God's green earth would you want to go to the Ratway?"

"I need to talk to Chipper."

"Why the hell do you need to talk to Chipper?" Rook's almond-shaped eyes narrowed in suspicion, as though he suspected that she was looking to rat him out for something.

"I need his cart."

He relaxed, sly grin back in place. "Hate to break it to you, but Chip doesn't have a cart, Just Allyson."

"Mordecai does," Opera added quietly.

"Then, I need Mordecai's cart. Look, it's important. How do I get to the Ratway?"

Rook looked down to Opera, who shrugged. Rook turned back to her, a thoughtful look on his face. Then, he glanced past her shoulder, eye brows shooting up as a look of recognition crossed his face. "You trade in Blink for Umpire?"

Allyson followed his stare, noticing Umpire still stood awkwardly on the edge of the crowd, a few of the Manhattaners having approached him. She turned back with a frustrated grumble.

"No, I didn't trade anyone; Blink's still in Brooklyn. Look, Rook, I need to know where I'm going, it's important."

"So you've said." Rook made a show of considering her. "Alright, Just Allyson. The Ratway's down by the harbour, but it's tricky to find."

He prattled on with the specific directions, and she did her best to commit them to memory. Umpire came up behind her, listening as well, still looking sulky.

"You go that?" Rook said.

She nodded.

"So you don't need me, then," Umpire said flatly, more of a statement than a question. She rolled her eyes.

"No, you have to come too. I don't trust you not to run off," she said, then silently added in her head, and I don't trust myself not to get lost.

Umpire groaned, but didn't protest further, seeming to have accepted his fate. Allyson went to shake Rook's hands, but when she reached forward, he shoved them in his pockets.

"Good luck, Just Allyson," he said, crouching back down to join Opera and the other boys over the dice. "Hopefully you won't need it."


	13. Chapter 13

Allyson hadn't been worried about going to a fighting ring up until she was within earshot of it. The building was a hole in the wall, in the far back of an alleyway between warehouses, though it was made suspicious by the number of carts crowded around the alley; she spotted the one Chipper had driven them to Manhattan on the other day, standing out with against the others with its boards half hanging on to the base, and tethered mule looking particularly ratty. And through the doorway came the uproarious noise of a crowd of people cheering, further giving away the fact that there was something going on within. Stood by the open door was a single man acting as a bouncer, about the size and shape of a boulder. His face reminded Allyson of the illustration of a troll that was in one of the story books she had read when she was little. The drawing had scared her as a child, and the real iteration of the visage was not proving to be any friendlier.

As she and Umpire carefully made their way passed the carts with their horses and mules, the man looked up at them, heavy brow furrowed so much it nearly obscured his small eyes beneath. There was a tense silence as he sized up the two newsies – under his scrutiny, Allyson felt smaller than usual, and Umpire seemed to shrink as well.

The man grunted, his voice sounding something like he was gargling chunks of pavement. "Whaddaya kids want."

Umpire looked at Allyson intently – the first time that day he hadn't looked at her with irritation – waiting for her to say something. She drew in a deep breath before she did speak, trying her best not to tremble under the giant man's beady-eyed stare.

"We're looking for Chipper, sir," she said, wincing at the squeaky sound of her own voice. The man's expression didn't shift, and it took him a count of three heartbeats before he moved – the giant turned slowly, not moving his eyes from the two that stood before him until he was looking into the dark depths of the building.

He turned back slowly, crossing his tree-trunk arms across his chest. Allyson noted that everything he seemed to do was at half the speed you would have expected. He returned to lean against the wall, and apparently reveled in Allyson and Umpire's palpable discomfort before he spoke again.

"He's in the ring."

Allyson and Umpire exchanged another look, before Allyson took the first step toward the door. Fast as a bolt, one of the man's huge arms was blocking the way.

"Y'gotta pay," he rumbled.

"How much?" Allyson said in the same terrified squeak, and she could have sworn the man's gash of a mouth nearly curled up in a mockery of a smile.

"Twenty cents."

Umpire groaned. "I ain't paying that."

The man made a sound that could have been a laugh. "Then ya ain't getting' in, kid."

Umpire crossed his arms, nose raised snobbishly. "Then I ain't goin'." He gave Allyson another meaningful look, though his usual discontent had returned. "This was your idea, Allyson, you go."

"Fine," she snapped, burying her hands into overall pockets. Even though she searched for every coin she had, she knew there was no way she had Twenty cents, let alone ten – but before she had to face admitting that, another voice cut in.

"What's the hubbub, Ronnie?"

Allyson looked up, and upon spotting the interloper, she realised that never before in her life had she ever been so happy to see Mordecai.

Mordecai was another staple of the Bronx, Chipper's best pal, and another retired newsie. He was similar in build to Chipper, but while Chipper had some lithe muscles, Mordecai was almost all skin and bones. He was slightly crooked in every way; he had an already pointed nose that had been broken a number of times, its bridge lumpy and lopsided; his posture was atrocious, and though he was near six feet tall, he never stood straight; his dark-reddish hair looked like someone had hacked at it blindly before sending him on his way. He seemed confused for a long second as he tried to place Allyson, having recognised her, but unable to remember where from. It was a moment before Mordecai pointed to her, face plastered with his crooked grin.

"You're Dusty's girl," he said confidently.

Though she resented the statement, she refused to correct him. He swooped forward, wrapping a long arm around her shoulders, though because of their height difference it was much closer to him wrapping her in a headlock. "C'mon in! You lookin' for Chip, I heard?" He didn't wait for a response, waving Allyson toward the doorway. "No need to leave 'em out in the cold, Ronnie."

Umpire shook his head adamantly. "I'm good here, thanks."

Mordecai shrugged, his elbow hitting Allyson in the ear. "Suit yourself, boy."

Without a protest from the bouncer, Mordecai whisked her into the dark fighting ring.

 _The Ratway_ reminded Allyson of _Sunny's_. There was a veil of smoke across the whole of the dim space. Mordecai led her into the bowels of the place, easily pushing through the crowd, most people stepping out of his path when they saw him. The crowd was rowdy and pushing toward the fighting ring in the center, some smaller groups circled around metal tables bookies collecting bets and distributing winnings. The rest of the people were surrounding the ring, stomping and shouting as they cheered on the fighters.

The ring was illuminated by a single warehouse light suspended by the rafters. It was dim and yellow, only just bright enough that the two boxers in the ring were easy to make out. There was a ref hanging out just outside of the ring's border, the barrier constructed of old planks and ropes, not nearly as nice as the rings Allyson had seen in the streets – though this ring was obviously not as legal as those ones were. The referee was carefully ducked out of the way of the match; he hovered by the corner, ready to hurdle over into the fighting ring if he needed. Beside him, hanging off the side of the border was a brass bell, and a second small man stood by it with a mallet poised to ring the end of the match.

Mordecai made way right up to the edge of the ring, and released Allyson. She rubbed at her neck as she tried to take in the fight – as the bouncer had promised, Chipper was in the midst of a match.

She could tell he was in his element, as he held a fighting stance, fists raised in front of his body, bouncing loosely on the balls of his feet. He was shirtless, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, and he was splattered with blood, though none of it seemed to be his beyond what covered his split knuckles.

While Chipper looked perfectly at home in the center of the fighting ring, his opponent looked like he'd been put through the ringer. The man was taller and wider than Chipper, but was wavering on his feet, a huge bruise formed over his left eye and cheek. He kept swinging wide, fatigue obvious in the way he wavered as his fists swung wide. Chipper made a show of ducking under his ham-fisted attempts to make a hit, spry like he hadn't been in the fight, let alone walloping on the larger boxer. He was barely breathing more heavily than if he were simply walking down the street. As his opponent watched for him to make an opening, Chipper made a spectacle of himself, smiling dazzlingly to the crowd, circling the ring on light feet, as if it were a dance rather than a fight.

The huge man took another laborious step toward Chip, arm pulled back to swing, but as he did, Chipper ducked out of the way, taking a step into his opponent's reach and sucker punching him in the jaw. The man reeled, stumbling back, and Mordecai gave a hearty whoop along with the other spectators as the poor fellow collapsed backwards.

The ref cleared the border of the ring in a single fluid motion, and scurried over to the collapsed boxer. He looked up quickly, saying, "He's out!" and there was an uproarious cheer from the spectators as Chipper wheeled to face them all, arms raised over his head in triumph.

Allyson didn't find that she was remotely surprised with the way that Chipper soaked up the praise and energy of his adoring fans. He had always been an attention-seeker, and though she hadn't realised he was an occasional brawler, she could guess that it was an easy way for him to gather praise and adoration. Though there were a few boo's coming from the crowd, he didn't seem phased by them – if anything, he seemed to notice them and take them as a compliment, turning an especially charming grin in the direction of his few hecklers.

He turned finally to look at Mordecai with a more genuine look on his face; as he did, his eyes passed over Allyson, then snapped back to her. His eyebrows quirked curiously, and he didn't lose his eye-contact with her as he vaulted the boundary of the ring and greeted his friend, Mordecai patting Chipper's back and yelling excitedly over the ruckus of the crowd. Even as he collected up a discarded shirt, he watched her inquisitively, and Allyson stared back, unsure what else to do, and not wanting to look away first.

After Mordecai had finished gushing over his best friend's victory, Chipper finally acknowledged Allyson's presence – "I see you brought in a guest, Mordy. My favourite Allyson!" Chipper opened his arms, as though he were going to embrace her, and she stiffened, but he never took the step forward. "A little young for your usual tag along, though, ain't she?"

Allyson wanted to take a swing at him herself, but Mordecai just laughed at the suggestion.

"Actually, Chip, she came looking for you."

Chipper's eyebrows rose again, disappearing under the mop of straw-blond hair that had fallen into his face and matted to his forehead with sweat during the fight. "Is that so?"

Chipper grinned like a jackal, and Allyson crossed her arms over her chest determinedly. "I need your cart."

Chipper and Mordecai exchanged a glance.

"My cart," Mordecai corrected her, seeming slightly confused.

"And what do ya possibly need a cart for, Al?"

"My brother is in Brooklyn, and he got himself stuck on a roof."

Chipper snorted. "I fail to see how a cart will help you with that. Wouldn't a ladder help you just as well? Better, even?"

Allyson flinched, realising he was right, but didn't stand down. "He climbed a cart to get up there, so it was the first thing I thought of to get him back down, okay? But, if you know someone with a ladder, go ahead and tell me where to find them, and I'll be off."

Chipper and Mordecai turned to each other again, seeming to communicate silently through their eyes, until Mordecai gave a slight nod. Chipper half-shrugged, "fine, I'll help you. I ain't got anything better to do."

Allyson wanted to shout with the excitement that flooded through her; she was finally going to be able to get Teddy home – but she realised who it was she was talking to.

"What do you want in return?" She eyed Chipper in suspicion, and he feigned offense, while Mordecai laughed beside him.

"Goodness, Al, who made you like this?"

She glared at him, waiting for an answer.

"Fine, you want to pay a price? Talk to Dusty."

She startled at the mention of the youngest Harvey brother, particularly since it was coming from Chipper, who at the best of times ignored that he had any siblings at all. "What does that have to do with you?"

Chipper rolled his eyes, and started to make his way toward the door of the ring. He stopped halfway there at one of the tables, picking up a small leather bag that clinked with the telling jingle of coins. Behind them, Allyson heard the call of the referee, gathering the audience again to the ringside. Patrons were swarming the table to place their bets with the bookie, and Allyson was dragged out of the current between Chipper and Mordecai, who everyone gave a wide breadth as they passed.

He finally turned back to answer Allyson's question, stopping just in front of the open door – "What does it not have to do with me? He's been driving us all mad, he never talks 'bout nothin' but you never deigning to talk to poor ol' him."

"I don't think that's really my problem," she grumbled, but was surprised that Chipper heard her over the sound of the fighting ring exploding into a new round of combat.

"Well, if you want to enlist my help, you oughta make it your problem. Because it sure as hell is mine, and if I don't get a promise here and now that you'll put an end to it, I ain't takin' you anywhere."

"Fine," she said shortly, realising that she didn't really mean it. Chipper gave her a pointed look, telling her he noticed her insincerity, too, and she corrected herself with the right tone of voice. "Fine, I'll talk to Dusty."

"Good," Chipper clapped his hands together, a wide smile on his face again as he took a wide step over the threshold of the _Ratway_. "Now where to?"

Allyson saw Umpire standing uncomfortable where he'd be left, standing in front of the bouncer, who watched the procession out of the building with no noticeable interest. There was a slight look of relief on the Brooklyner's face, but he seemed to catch himself, returning to his usual unimpressed visage.

"He knows," Allyson pointed to him, and Chipper swooped in like a hawk on an unsuspecting rabbit.

* * *

Somehow, Allyson ended up in the bed of the cart again. Mordecai had decided to tag along, citing that he didn't want Chipper to trash his precious cart – Allyson wondered if they were looking at the same vehicle, the rickety wagon looking as though it had already been rolled end over end down a hill. Mordecai was trapped in the back of his cart too, though he looked happy enough to be there, long legs stretched across the wooden flatbed. Allyson sat against the far edge, ready to leap out as soon as they arrived in the alleyway, but also to avoid being close to Mordecai.

Though she didn't want to be relegated to the back of the wagon again, she was at least happy to not be in Umpire's place. She was starting to feel bad for him – he looked even bluer than he had earlier, trapped sitting up on the driver's bench with Chipper, who had noticed how uncomfortable the boy was with chatter, and had taken it upon himself to tell him his life story, while asking him for directions. He looked as though he was praying for a sinkhole to open in the middle of the street and consume them all. He occasionally looked back at Allyson mournfully, and she figured he'd finally realised that while she annoyed him, she wasn't nearly as bad as Chipper.

They were making good time on the way back to Brooklyn; having a set of wheels certainly helped with that. Every minute that passed was a minute closer to bringing Teddy home, and she had to keep reminding herself of that when she started to get antsy. They were across the bridge in less than half the time that it had taken to cross on foot, but still she was anxious, wanting to jump up and run the rest of the way.

If she actually knew the way, she might have.

Chipper had bored of talking Umpire's ear off, and was now whistling an odd tune, Umpire cringing beside him as he tried to hit notes too high, and the whistle turned into a reedy shriek. Mordecai seemed to recognise the song himself, and had joined in with humming, while he drummed his fingers against the flatbed.

While watching the buildings of Brooklyn pass by, she realised just how much she was looking forward to going home. It felt like it had been ages since she had been anywhere familiar, or since she'd seen any of her friends – as she thought about it, she started to feel homesick, as she hadn't before while she was so focused on finding her brother.

They turned a corner, and Chipper pulled to a halt in front of the alleyway Allyson recognised from earlier. Without prompting, she hopped down from the cart, bolting down to see Teddy again.

She was relieved to find Blink and him laughing when she entered the alley. Spotting her, Teddy called out, and Blink turned, too, smiling.

Despite her homesickness, she knew she was going to miss Blink terribly. Just by seeing him, she felt her heart drop as she remembered that he wasn't coming back to the Bronx, too.

She pushed the feeling away, walking up to his side, and smiled back. "Nice to see you're getting along."

Blink shrugged. "I get along with everyone."

"Allyson! Did you know that Blink knows Jack?" Teddy was leaning out far enough from the edge of the crawlspace to make her nervous, but he seemed secure enough, Blink not looking worried as he looked intently between her and the younger boy.

"Yeah, I did," she said. "Did he tell you about the strike?"

Teddy nodded enthusiastically. "He said that he got in a fight with a copper!"

Allyson gave Blink a side-eyed look, but he ignored it. "An officer, Teddy," she corrected him gently. "And don't get excited, there's nothing to be proud of in that."

Teddy looked dejected, but Blink laughed. "She's right. I only did it because he was attacking us first."

Allyson shot him another withering look, but he countered it with his usual disarming smile. She groaned quietly, trying to plan how she would have to counter any damage done to her brother's understanding of the proper way to act.

"In case you've forgotten," she hissed to Blink, "Teddy's actually got a normal life to get back to. You certainly don't need to fill him with ideas of battling with the bulls, okay?"

Blink raised his hands in silent defense, then turned back to the mouth of the alley, as Chipper had finally angled the cart into the opening. While the shipment wagon from earlier that day had been fairly thin, Mordecai's cart was much wider, and had taken them a little more effort to get into the space. Umpire and Mordecai followed in, though Ump looked as though he was waiting for a quiet second where he could slip away. Blink pulled Allyson with him by the wrist as he took a step out of the way, allowing Chipper to lead the mule under the crawlspace.

The driver's bench came to sit just under the opening, and Chipper looked up at Teddy.

"Well, you must be the younger Dean!" he doffed an imaginary hat, and Teddy watched in amusement. "How do you do?"

"Good, except I can't get down," Teddy answered earnestly.

Chipper laughed, seeming an entirely different person than Allyson was used to seeing him be. He was too gentle to be Chipper. "Well, I believe we'll be seeing to that now, and we'll have you down in a jiffy."

As though waiting for her to take her cue, Chipper turned to look at Allyson, expecting her to take the step up to the cart. However, Blink touched her shoulder gently, stopping her before she could move – "I've got this," he said, and then, as though he could tell she was worried about whether or not she'd even be able to get Teddy down in the first place, he said, "I can get him down easy."

Chipper watched the exchange with interest, and Allyson felt herself turn red. She instead fixed her eyes on the back of Blink's shoulders, watching as he stepped up to the back of the cart, and was able to reach up to the cubby Teddy had tucked himself into. He still had to coax the younger boy out slightly, the edge of the space only slightly over his reach, but once he promised Teddy that he wasn't going to fall, Teddy let himself drop slightly – at the same time, Allyson felt her heart skip a beat or two – but as he'd promised, Blink had him, and swung him down onto his stand beside him on the cart.

Realising he was on his own two feet again, Teddy gave an excited yelp, and then jumped off the flatbed, barreling toward his sister. Allyson caught him in a hug, the force of him running to her knocking her back onto the ground so hard her cap falling from her head.

She thought for a moment that Teddy was laughing against her shoulder, but realised that he was actually crying, the fabric of her shirt soaking in his tears, and she couldn't stop herself for crying, too. Any thought she had had before of telling him off for running away, or being angry with anyone, was gone now, and all she could think of was how happy she was to finally have him with her, safe.

"It's okay," she said, careful not to let her breath catch as the tears slipped down her face as she held onto him. He wrapped his arms around her waist tighter. "I've got you."

She'd forgotten that there were other people there until she felt her hat returned to her head. She looked up to see Blink standing over her, but he didn't look at her; instead, he was staring determinedly at the others, and it occurred to her that he was maybe trying to protect her, though she wasn't really sure why. Chipper looked bored by the scene, Mordecai was more focused on petting his mule, and she almost overlooked Umpire where he was standing at the entrance of the alleyway.

"Allyson?" Teddy was looking up at her now, red-eyed and flushed.

"Yeah, Teddy?" She loosed one arm from where it was wrapped around him, wiping under her eyes.

"Can we go home now?"

She could have sworn that she saw Blink flinch from the corner of her eye. She carefully brushed back the hair from her brother's brow.

"Of course."

She helped him stand first before she got up herself, then finally looked up at Chipper.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, but Chipper seemed unimpressed.

"Don't thank me – keep your promise, and you can consider us even." He patted Mordecai on the shoulder, and the two older boys mounted the driver's bench of the cart, Mordecai at the reigns this time, and slowly they managed their way out of the alley.

She was surprised Blink didn't ask her what she had promised Chipper, but when she tried to meet his eye he refused to look at her, focused instead on the brick wall ahead. Instead of pushing him, not sure what the matter was, she left Teddy at his side, quietly excusing herself for a moment.

Umpire watched her with a surprisingly neutral expression as she half-jogged to meet at the mouth of the alley. She bolstered herself momentarily before she spoke.

"Umpire, I owe you an apology," she started. "I know I've not been the friendliest, but I have to thank you for your help."

"Its fine," he grumbled, looking down the street over the top of his spectacles. "Look, if Zoe went missing, I'd want someone to help me too. It was the right thing to do."

She half expected him to apologise himself, but apparently that was too much wistful thinking, as he started to turn. "Seeya, Bronx."

"Seeya." She watched him walk off until he turned the corner and was out of sight.

"So," she whirled to see Blink had come up behind her, his more cheery expression having returned. Teddy was beside him, clinging to his arm, and she thought of how strange that was, as Teddy had claimed recently he was too old to hold hands with anyone but her – Blink continued, saying, "looks like you'll need me to lead you around once more, huh?"

Allyson rolled her eyes. "I think I could probably manage it – it's just a straight line up, right?"

She looked at her mournfully for a brief second, but his cocky grin was fixed back in place before she could really register the stare. "C'mon, for old times' sake?"

She snorted. "I hardly think that four days counts as old times, Blink."

But when he started leading the way with Teddy in tow, she followed.

The two of them barely spoke for most of the way across Manhattan. Instead, Teddy spent the duration of the walk talking enough for the three of them. He was between the both of them, holding onto their hands as he chattered about anything and everything that came to mind.

He started by telling them how he'd left the Bronx all by himself, after Allyson prompted him. He'd slipped out the window of the apartment that was over his bed – Allyson knew exactly which one he meant, since it was the same one she had jimmied so she could open it from the outside, and again she felt that Teddy's disappearance was her fault entirely – and had gone down the fire escape. And then, he'd just ran and ran until he got tired and fell asleep in the doorway of a bakery he recognised from outings with their mother.

Allyson frowned, squeezing her brother's hand. "You shouldn't have slept outside, Teddy, what if you'd caught a cold?"

He looked at her as though she were completely daft. "You'd done it – you'd told me. I knew I could too. And I didn't even get sick!"

He continued on with his story, about how he looked for Jack, but no one he ran into knew where he was. He decided to look for him himself, but got lost; eventually, he happened to cross paths with Zoe, who said she would help him find somewhere safe, though she didn't know where Jack was.

"Why'd you want to meet Jack anyway, kid?" Blink asked, Teddy instantly lighting up when the older boy paid him any attention.

"I wanted to be a newsie, too!"

Allyson groaned. "You could have stayed in the Bronx and found me."

"No I couldn't," Teddy said stubbornly, "'cos you woulda made me go home."

She couldn't say he was wrong at that.

He got bored of his own story after that, as he got to the part where Zoe and Umpire took him to stay with their cousin.

"All they let me do was stay around the stables and feed the horses," he pouted, "they didn't even let me ride one!"

After he concluded that Brooklyn was the worst place he had been over the last few days – though Zoe had been nice to him ("and pretty, too," he added quietly) – he moved on to pestering Blink. He asked him about Jack, which Blink happily answered in detail; he asked him about his other friends, and Blink continued to entertain him with stories, though some were a little more blue than Allyson thought was really appropriate. Teddy then started to ask him about his eyepatch, about how he'd gotten it, if his eye was gone; he asked him if he was a pirate, like in one of his books, and Blink laughed loudly, but in a way that communicated that he'd heard that before.

"Y'know, not only pirates wear eyepatches," Blink said, still laughing.

Teddy looked confused. "Who else then?"

"Me, for one."

As the questions wavered between personal and mildly curious, Allyson felt herself growing embarrassed on her brother's behalf. But Teddy was shameless, and Blink was patient and told him what he could. He only hesitated once, when Teddy had started talking about his and Allyson's parents, then asked Blink what his were like.

He had paused for a moment, and Allyson was about to tell Teddy to apologise before he started to speak again.

"My mother was the kindest woman I ever met," he said, and Allyson could tell he was choosing his words carefully. "I lived with her until I was eleven, and then I was off on my own."

Instead of asking why he'd left his mother, Teddy started to ask about more of Blink's adventures from during the strike. Allyson tried to give an apologetic look to Kid Blink over Teddy's head, but when he noticed, he smiled.

Teddy got tired out after almost two hours had gone by, exhausted both by the walk and the general excitement of the day, and from talking so much. Allyson stopped their walking and lifted Teddy onto her back in a piggyback, and almost immediately, he started to nod off.

Blink pocketed his hands in his vest, looking up at the sky. "You want me to walk you the rest of the way?"

 _Yes,_ she wanted to say; she realised she didn't want to leave him. She'd only known him for a short time, and yet she trusted him, considered him one of her closest friends already.

Instead, she said, "no, it's getting late. You should probably go home. I'll be fine."

He frowned, and for a second, she found that she was hoping he would protest, insist that he go with her like he had the last few days. But he just told her, "be safe, then."

"I will."

The two stared at one another in silence for a count of three long heart beats, Allyson waiting for him to say something more, him obviously waiting on her. She shifted Teddy's wait on her back, trying to lessen the weight he'd put on her arms – Blink watched intently.

"Can I still visit?" he blurted out, just as she was about to make her leave.

She nodded stiffly. "Of course."

"Good, okay," he nodded, more to himself than to her, then extended his hand for her to shake. "Then, 'til next time?"

She couldn't free her arm from where it was hooked under Teddy's knee, so she awkwardly extended her elbow. With a chuckle, he took it, and they shook as she repeated him – "'Til next time, Blink."


	14. Chapter 14

"Wait, you _kissed_ him?" Doc's voice was a shrill with disbelief.

Red and Allyson both hushed her simultaneously. Canner, though silent, shot her an exasperated look. The rest of the cellar was asleep, and the four of them were huddled by the ladder out of the basement, the single oil lamp they had for the room balanced precariously above them so Doc could work on Canner's hand after he sliced it open with the spring of one of his dismantled tinker toys. Pip and Twist were both sound asleep in their cots, Twist's snores rumbling and keeping time in as the evening went on.

It had been over a week since Allyson had returned to the Bronx, but she had been avoiding talking about her time in Manhattan and Brooklyn with anyone.

Blink still hadn't come to visit her. She tried not to be too disappointed; but it was hard. She missed him more than she thought she would, and wished to see him again. Yet, every day she hoped he'd turn up, and he was never there. The longer it'd been since she'd him, the less she wanted to acknowledge she'd even met him in the first place.

She hadn't told anyone that he'd promised to come to the Bronx – she'd barely told anyone that she'd met anyone at all in Manhattan. Until now, when Red and Doc had cornered her, demanding they tell her more about what she had been up to. So she had started at the beginning, telling them about how she had gotten to Manhattan, but Jack was nowhere to be found. Then, she told them about Blink, and how he had offered to help her.

Red and Doc exchanged a skeptical glance at the idea of Allyson accepting help from anyone, but she ignored them, continuing on with her story, wanting to get it over with.

She told them about Sunny's, and Jack, and how he led them to take their search to Brooklyn. She skipped over telling them about the docks, but when she mentioned the party, Doc fixated on it.

As she wound gauze around the palm of Canner's hand, she quizzed Allyson about every little detail - _What were the Brooklyn boys like? Were they handsome?_ And _What did you drink?_ And _Did you dance with anyone?_

Red watched with amusement as Allyson fielded Doc's enthusiastic interrogation, but as though he were waiting for Allyson to slip up, as though he knew there was something more interesting she was leaving out. Eventually, after being dissatisfied with Allyson's half-hearted answers ( _I don't know, maybe; Gin, it was disgusting;_ and _no_ ), Doc finally gave up, only to have Red cut in traitorously.

"What about Kid Blink?"

Allyson bristled. "What about him?"

As if he had caught her finally, he smiled blithely, leaning back against the wall as he lazily took a drag of his cigarette, all while having set off Doc on a new path of questioning. Eventually it had come out that she and Blink had kissed.

And Doc was completely scandalised, dropping her roll of gauze so that it bounced and unwound across her lap.

"I didn't mean to," Allyson whispered, earning more skeptical looks from her three friends. "It wasn't on purpose. It was an accident."

"You can't accidentally kiss someone, Al," Red said blandly. Canner snorted his agreement.

"Can't," he said solemnly, the first Allyson had heard him speak that day.

"Yeah, well, I did," Allyson huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Red rolled his eyes.

Doc was still stunned. "B-but, what about Dusty?"

Allyson rose an eyebrow. "What does that have anything to do with Dusty?"

"Oh, Allyson," Doc's voice was a squeal again, and Red shushed her once more, "you're going to break his heart, aren't you!"

Allyson groaned, and Canner rolled his eyes sympathetically.

"According to everyone, I already have broken it."

Doc gasped loudly, and Red looked like he was about to tackle the slight blonde before she caught herself. "Do you like him?"

"What?!"

"Do you like the Manhattan boy?"

Allyson felt herself blush, and Red laughed at her expense. "I don't _like_ him. He's just a friend."

"But you _kissed_ him!" This time, Red did clap his hand over Doc's mouth, hissing at her to "shut the hell up, for God's sake."

"Technically he kissed me," Allyson said, though it wasn't nearly as convincing as she wanted it to be.

Doc tried to speak around Red's hand, but all that Allyson heard was muffled gibberish. She stopped, and Red suddenly yanked his hand back with a small yelp, revealing that Doc's tongue was stuck out.

"Disgusting!" Red hissed, wiping his hand on the front of his pant leg.

"Do it again," Doc said, surprisingly threatening, "and I'll bite your fingers off."

"What kind of monster raised you lick other people's hands?"

Doc sniffed indignantly. "My Mama is no monster, and she taught me how to defend myself from awful brutes just fine, thank you very much."

"Who you callin' a brute?"

Before the two could get any deeper into their argument Canner waved his half-wrapped and injured hand in Doc's face, attempting to remind her exactly what they had gathered round for. Doc seemed to suddenly remember why the roll of gauze was in her lap, collecting it up and finishing her bandaging of Canner's hand.

"Sorry Canner." She carefully tied off the wrapping in a tight knot along the back of his knuckles, and gave him a solid pat on the shoulder to let him know he was good to go. Silently, he stood and walked off to bed, leaving the three older newsies to continue their discussion.

"Well," Doc said, tucking the remaining gauze into her skirt pocket, "I don't believe I ever saw you as the type to just go off accidentally kissing people, Allyson. Especially people you don't even like."

"I like him," Allyson said a little too forcefully, and Doc raised her eyebrows at her, "but I don't _like_ him! He's just a friend."

"Just a friend you've kissed," Red said around his dwindling cigarette.

Allyson rolled her eyes at him, exhausted of this conversation. "Don't act like it's weird to kiss your friends, Red."

Red looked petrified for a second, then annoyed, and was about to say something in his defense before Doc cut in – "Please, don't try to act like Red doing it makes it normal."

"Hey, shove it," he said defensively, his voice raising loud enough that it was Doc's turn to hush him, "you don't get to play that card – I was drunk!"

Allyson raised her arms over her head in a gesture of exasperation. "Well, so was I!"

He pointed a finger at her accusingly. "I wasn't kissing anyone romantically."

"Well neither was I!"

Doc looked at Allyson, not even slightly trying to hide her doubt.

"Look, besides, he kissed _me,_ " Allyson said resolutely.

"Then what does he say, then?" Red flicked the ash from his cigarette, having almost burned it down to the butt.

"He told me that he didn't mean it like that, either. He said he hadn't been thinking."

Red snorted. "Well, if you ask me, it sounds like he was just sayin' that not to upset you."

"Shut up."

Doc continued to give Allyson her disbelieving stare, and Allyson fought the impulse to tear her hair out and scream.

"You can think whatever you want, Doc, but I know what I was feeling, and I know what he said." Allyson groaned loudly. Though she was saying it out loud now, she wasn't sure if she believed it any more than she had the last week of trying to convince herself that she knew what she was feeling. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed, okay?"

As she stalked off to her own cot, she heard Red and Doc share a triumphant-sounding murmur. She ignored them, collapsing into bed and pulling her ratty blanket over her head, and forced herself not to think of anything until she fell asleep.

* * *

Allyson pointedly ignored Doc and Red the next day, instead sticking close to Pipsqueak and Canner. Partially because she was annoyed with the two of them, but also because she was afraid they would be able to tell that she wasn't actually certain about what she had claimed the night before. Though it wasn't as though she never spent time with Canner and Pip, it was odd though to not talk to either of them on purpose – Red and Doc were her closest friends, and they seemed to take notice of her avoiding them.

She had finished up her usual rounds at the university, finally back in routine. When she had first come back, her professor customer had seemed surprised.

"I'd wondered where you'd been," he had said when she appeared at his office the day after she returned from Manhattan. He waved her in, and though she offered him his rolled paper, he's motioned for her to take the seat opposite his at the desk. Cautiously, she took it, not wanting to be rude, and set the paper on the corner of his desk.

"Have I ever told you, my dear," he started, opening a drawer in his heavy wooden desk – Allyson felt nervous for a second until he produced a tin of tea biscuits and offered her one – "that you remind me of my daughter?"

"No, sir," she said, gingerly picking out one of the biscuits, and he set the tin down on the desktop.

"Yes, well, you strike me as similar to my darling – independent, hardworking," he looked at her over the top of his small-oval glasses. She nibbled on the edge of the cookie, wondering where he was going. "However, though those are admirable traits in any young person, I cannot help but wonder if they are more trouble than they are worth."

Allyson lowered the biscuit from her mouth, wiping the crumbs off her face with the back of her hand. "What do you mean, sir?"

He drummed a finger against the top of the tin lid. "Are you eating enough, dear? Are you making enough money?"

"Sure, enough." Though he was asking only to be kind, as he always had been to her, she couldn't help but be uncomfortable. It had been forever since any adult had asked after her.

"I can't help but worry, you do remind me so much of my Jessie, and when you had disappeared, I had thought the worst, "— he slid the tin of biscuits toward her —"please, take this. I know it's not much, but I appreciate you coming to bring me my paper in the mornings, and I feel as though I haven't paid you adequately for your service."

Carefully, she pocketed the biscuit she had already started to eat – "but sir, I can't take those from you."

"Stuff and nonsense," he said with a firm shake of his head. "I have them only to entice my students to come discuss their thesis work with me, and I can easily procure more. You, however, I feel would appreciate them more."

She started to reach for them, but he told her to wait, digging through his pocket. He dropped the change on top of the tin, and she knew immediately that it was far more than he owed her.

"Sir, I don't think…"

"Please, take it. Put it in savings," he stared at her pensively. "I feel there is more you could accomplish than simply selling papers, my dear, and perhaps you should consider working toward that future."

She had left after that with a polite farewell, carrying the tin under her arm for the rest of the day, until she got home to the cellar. There, she shared the biscuits with everyone else, and then decided to repurpose the tin. As the professor had suggested, she decided to keep the extra money he had given her safely inside it, first tucking the coins inside a scrap of fabric she borrowed from Canner. The money in safe-keeping, she felt as though she was taking a step toward something bigger than herself, though she didn't know what that thing was, yet. She buried the tin in the bottom of her clothes' trunk that she kept under her cot, wrapping her only dress around it carefully, and felt that was safe enough.

After that, things had returned to normal, the professor as friendly as usual, but not tipping her extravagantly. But after their chat, she started to put away a small amount of her coins in the tin; though it was not much, it was more than she usually had, and in a safer spot than in the pocket of her overalls.

Once she had returned from selling by the zoo construction site, she returned to the boy's Lodging home, finding Canner and Pip there already, bowed over one of Canner's odd little workpieces at the top of the lodging house's steps. She joined them, watching as Canner wound the key on the back of the contraption – or, at least what she had thought was the back. She wasn't really sure what the contraption was, as it wasn't really shaped like anything she recognised; it was tall-ish and it was larger than Canner's usual mechanisms; it had flat feet-like things at its base, and seemed to wobble slightly as Canner twisted the key.

"What is it supposed to be, Canner?" She asked.

The boy shrugged. When he had finally completed the winding, the contraption started to hop like a frog, landing on its feet. As it bounced around, it started to chirp out a tinny song, and Pip started to clap for it. Allyson joined as well, stopping when the toy hopped too far off the step, and tumbled down to the street. Both the boys laughed as its off-key tune turned to an odd honk, stopping suddenly when it finally hit the solid ground.

Pip shuffled down the stone steps to collect it, then passed it back up to Canner. Canner attempted to wind the toy's key again, but it refused to turn, instead making a second plaintive honk instead. Pip pouted over it with a loud "aww," as Canner carefully set it back down on the top step.

"I can fix it," he said quietly, digging into one of the pouches hanging off his belt.

As he did, Doc approached the stairs, having just returned from her own rounds that day. Allyson didn't meet her eyes when she stopped just at the first step, and Doc seemed to be hurt when she noticed. She then looked at the toy sitting by Canners' knees, and saw him procure a small screwdriver from the depths of his pockets, and sighed. "You broke it already, Canner?"

Canner grunted. "Pip did it."

"Hey!"

Doc ignored the two boys, who had started squabbling – at least, as best as one could when trying to hold an argument with Canner, who seemed mostly intent on tinkering with the toy as Pip whined at him for lying – and sat on the step next to Allyson's feet, staring up at the older girl.

Allyson sighed in resignation, "hi, Doc."

"You're mad at me, aren't you?"

"I'm not."

Doc rested her chin on her hand, leaning on the stairs, looking as guilty as Allyson had ever seen her before. "I didn't mean to upset you, you know? I was just poking fun."

Allyson didn't respond, and Doc, sounding heart broken, said, "I'm sorry."

She reached over and awkwardly patted her friend on the top of her head – "its fine Doc. It's not you."

The younger girl's eyes lit up suddenly. "What is it then?"

Allyson pressed her lips together, not wanting to talk about it. Doc seemed to catch on, waving the question away. "That's fine, just know if you do want to talk about it, I'm here to listen."

Their conflict resolved for the time being, the girls sat in silence, watching as Canner fiddled with his contraption, occasionally pulling pieces off to get underneath them. They occasionally offered advice to him, which went largely ignored as Canner had a better sense of basic mechanisms than either of them, while Pip had gotten bored at was laying back on the stairs, cloud gazing.

Dusty turned the street corner, and seeing him, Allyson felt compelled to bolt. She hadn't yet fulfilled her bargain with Chipper, and honestly wasn't that keen on ever doing so, and as usual, she wanted to keep her distance from the boy. But in the time it would have taken her to weave her way out from between Canner and Doc, and down the stairs, Dusty was already stood at the bottom, one foot on the first step as though he were claiming it.

Pointedly, he ignored Allyson, instead feigning interest in what Canner was doing – "What'd you have there, Can?"

Without really looking up, the younger boy lifted the contraption for Dusty to see. Dusty looked at it with mild distaste, never actually having paid Canner any attention, since he thought he was weird. But, continuing his act, he asked, "What does it do?"

"Toy," Canner said plainly, then bounced it through the air with his hand.

Dusty looked bored, and niceties out of the way, he finally turned his attention to Allyson.

She tried to shrink so she could hide behind Doc, but it didn't work.

"Haven't seen you lately, Al," he said, expression unreadable.

"Yeah, well," she straightened her spine – if she couldn't escape by being small, she decided it was better to appear confident – "I've been busy."

"So I've heard." Allyson's eyebrows rose in question, and Dusty mimicked the expression. "Heard you'd been in 'Hattan."

Allyson didn't move, eyes narrowing at him, waiting for him to get to his point.

"Heard you picked up a new beau?"

Allyson decided in that second that she was going to smother Red in his sleep.

"Just friends," Canner said in his usual quiet voice, and Dusty perked up at the sound, smirking.

"Awful chatty today, ain't ya, Canner?"

Simultaneously Doc and Allyson shot glares at Dusty – nothing made Canner clam up faster than pointing out how talkative he was being. And already, Canner seemed to deflate slightly, giving his full attention to fixing the toy.

"Don't take out your frustration on Canner, Dusty," Doc growled. "He's right too, Allyson doesn't have a beau."

Allyson wrapped her hand around Doc's tiny wrist, squeezing her slightly in silent thanks.

"That's not what Red told me."

"Red doesn't know what he's talking about," Allyson snapped. "Mind your own business, Dusty."

"Fine," the boy shrugged, as if trying to convince them he couldn't care less, all why Allyson could still see the tension in his clenched jaw, in how he stared at her. She stared back, until he was the first to look away. He started up the stairs, stopping when none of them moved to let him past. "You're in my way."

"Of course, your highness," Doc said, voice dripping in sarcasm as they all pushed to the sides of the stairs, clearing a path.

That night, Allyson came up to where Red was lying in his cot, and pushed the whole thing over.

"Stop telling Dusty my business, Red," she said before storming off to her own cot.

When his nose started on one of its chronic bleeds a half hour later, Doc still helped him staunch the blood, but all the while was telling him how it was God's punishment for him being a traitor.


End file.
